Will you be - ?
by Scared Swan
Summary: "At 27, Bellamy felt old. Weathered by the conditions of this world." Or - The 'The Last of Us' au literally no one asked for (full summary inside)
1. Prologue & Summer

_**Summary:**_ **"At 27, Bellamy felt old. Weathered by the conditions of this world. Grown tired of the fighting, of having little to no food and of having to see the same people every day in this stupid little QZ. He'd been here, in Boston, for about 10 years, when he got in on false papers that his contacts in the Fireflies got for him. He wasn't happy about it, but here at least, he was safe from the Infected."**

 **Or**

 **The 'The Last of Us' au literally no one asked for**

 **So I got myself addicted to The Last of Us and of course I immediately thought of about a million fic ideas for these two idiots set in this world. So here we are. It's gonna be about 4 chapters (maybe 5) and this one follows the story as it is told in the game, with a few changes here and there, mainly pertaining age and relationships. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

He was six when it happened.

He could barely remember how it happened, or where they had been going.

But he could remember perfectly what happened after their car got hit.

His mother pulled him and O out the wreckage of the car, groaning a bit and rolling her shoulder. Octavia, little as she was, was crying in her mother's arms, and Bellamy was shaking all over from the crash and horrible sights he'd just seen. Were that humans, were that actual human beings that were slaughtering each other like wolves? "Mom..." he whispered, just as his father scrambled out of the car, too.

"It's gonna be okay, Bell." she said, pulling a gun from the back of her pants and pushing it in his father's hands. "Keep us safe, Marcus!" She then crouched in front of Bellamy. "Climb onto my back, okay, Bell? Like we do when we're playing pony, okay?" Bellamy did as she asked, and she felt his mom breathing fast when he wrapped his arms around her neck. "Now you hold on tight, and no matter what happens, you don't let go, got it?"

"Yes, mom." he said quickly.

"Aurora, we've got to move!" Marcus yelled, just as a burning car soared by, slamming into a gas station, which promptly exploded. Octavia wailed loudly. Aurora began running, Marcus close on her heels, gun at the ready. Bellamy's senses were being bombarded with noise and tremors all around him. People were running around, screaming as buildings caught fire.

It was chaos, and Bellamy's panic was so great that it was numbing. He had never felt such fear.

They passed an upturned, blue car from which a horrible screaming sounded and Bellamy saw blood splatter on the windshield. In front of them, another building exploded and they screeched to a halt. People came running towards them, and some of them were on fire. Bellamy couldn't tear his eyes off them, his skin prickling with second-hand pain. "Oh my God..." he whispered, not knowing where to look.

"Bellamy, close your eyes, okay, baby?" Aurora said, clutching O close to her chest. "Marcus, where do we go?"

Bellamy's dad looked around wildly for a moment, before pointing to an alley. "Through here, come on!" Aurora ran towards it, avoiding panicked people running in the other direction. "We need to get out of here!"

Suddenly, they were dragged down by a crazed, screaming... _thing_ with empty, dead eyes, scratching at them viciously. Bellamy slammed his eyes shut, muttering in his mother's shoulder. "Mommy!"

Then two shots rang out and the body stilled on top of them. Aurora let out a quiet whimper and then stood up. Bellamy saw his dad standing with his gun raised, a determined look on his face. "Daddy?" he whispered.

"It's going to be okay, son. Just hold on to your mom, okay?"

They ran again, dodging crazed people, upturned trashcans and screaming children. He knew they were being followed by...well, _something_. But he didn't look back. He knew that if he did, he would never be able to look away again. And then he would never be able to sleep again. So he kept his eyes on Octavia over his mother's shoulder, whispering soothing words to her. His leg was still hurting, but he didn't care. They were all in danger, and he could feel it. They run, or they die.

"Get in!" Marcus yelled, holding open a door and Aurora pushed through it. Bellamy looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened. At least ten of those...things were hot on their heels. Marcus slammed the door shut and heaved a deep breath. "You have to go."

"Marcus, no...!" Aurora said.

"You've got Bellamy and O, you've got to go, I can outrun them! I'll hold them off as long as I can and I'll catch up!"

Aurora shook her head but was already moving to the backdoor of the bar. "You better survive this, Marucs, or I swear to God I will come and kill you myself."

"Just _go_!"

Aurora ran as fast she could with two kids, and Bellamy yelled out for his dad. "We can't just leave him there!"

"Bell!" Aurora said.

"But...!"

"Not now, Bell!"

Bellamy looked over his shoulder again, and his heart soared into his throat. Those things were on them once more. "Mom!"

"We gotta hurry." his mother muttered. They ran for it, through the dark of night, with the ominous sounds of those sick people behind them. Bellamy tried to make himself as light as possible as they ran up a hill, where they were already hearing the sounds of military. Safety was up there. The soldiers would protect them.

At the top, Aurora stopped, out of breath, and that was a near fatal mistake; immediately, they were jumped by those freaks. Hands clawed at his back, and at his mother's throat, and he heard jaws snap by his ear. Bellamy closed his eyes, ready to feel something tearing at his throat, ready to die, when two shots rang out and everything stopped moving.

Aurora raised up, holding O close. A soldier was standing in front of them, a gas mask covering his face and a gun trained on them. "Hands in the air! Raise 'em up!"

"I'm holding a baby!" Aurora yelled. "Listen, man, we've just been through hell..."

"Shut up!" he yelled at her, and Bellamy stared at the gun, his heart hammering. Then the soldier began speaking softer. "Sir, we've got civilians at the perimeter...sir, there's a baby and a little boy...but..." The soldier sighed, tightening his grip on the gun. "Yes sir."

Aurora began to back away slowly, shielding Octavia with her arms. "Wait! We're not infected, I swear to you! Please!"

Next moment, everything went crazy. Shots rang out, and Bellamy felt his mom throw her weight sideways and down a hill. Bellamy rolled off her back, down a hill and into the dirt. His entire body hurt and he coughed as he got up. He gasped as he saw the soldier move down the hill, training his gun on his mother and his sister.

"Please!" Aurora yelled, trying to sit up. Bellamy scrambled up to them, pulling Octavia and his mom against him protectively. He was all too aware of his six years, his small body being not nearly enough to protect the two most important women in his life and he was so scared. The soldier didn't seem to listen and got ready to shoot again, but before anything could happen, his head seemed to explode. Bellamy buried his face in his mom's shoulder to avoid the sight of such a horrible display.

"Guys, are you okay?"

Relief flooded Bellamy like never before. "Dad!" he said, but Marcus had his eyes fixed on his wife, staring in pure shock. Bellamy looked down and yelled out, "No!" As he'd pulled Octavia off his mom's chest to protect them both from the soldier, a large wound in Aurora's stomach became visible. Aurora was gasping for breath, bubbles of blood coming out of her mouth as she tried to breathe, and Bellamy knew. He just knew that there was nothing to be done. "No, no, mom!" he yelled, clutching O to his chest with one arm and pressing his other hand to her wound. She let out a high-pitched sound, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. He had never heard her make that sound before and it was agonizing. "Oh God..." he muttered, as Marcus came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mom! _Ina_ , please! _Diyos, no!_ " He looked up at his father with pleading eyes. Why couldn't he fix this? He could always fix everything, he was his dad! But Marcus only cried, silent tears leaking down his cheeks, and Bellamy knew it was over. He had never seen his dad cry before, not like this. He looked back down, at his mother, who had grasped his hand in a final spasm of life. Now she was silent, her eyes wide, empty and staring into nothingness. The light that he loved so much, had gone out behind them.

Bellamy sobbed out her name once more, and he was sure, more sure than anything, that he had never felt so horrible in his life.

 **-BCTLOU-**

 _20 years later..._

 _Summer_

At 27, Bellamy felt old. Weathered by the conditions of this world. Grown tired of the fighting, of having little to no food and of having to see the same people every day in this stupid little QZ. He'd been here, in Boston, for about 10 years, when he got in on false papers that his contacts in the Fireflies got for him. He wasn't happy about it, but here at least, he was safe from the Infected.

But inside, matters were bad in their own way. With the country still under military law, there were gunshots heard in the streets all day. People being shot over nothing. Soldiers abusing their power just because. Because this world allowed them to. Cruelty was just another day in this world.

Bellamy barely remembered the old one. He barely even remembered his mother's face, when it wasn't covered in blood. He could remember sitting on a swing, laughing as his father pushed him higher and higher. He remembered holding O for the first time. But he didn't remember how the world used to be, how things were run. He remembered only terror. False promises. And threats.

Right now, he was staring down into the face of a furious blonde about his age, who was holding a knife to his throat. "Get the _fuck_ away from her!" she hissed at him, and he backed away from the wounded Queen Firefly, because he didn't like the feeling of that knife on his windpipe, nor the fierce look in this woman's eyes. She was clumsy, her hold on the knife weak. But he had no doubt that she would slit his throat if she set her mind to it.

"Who's this?" he asked Dr. Tsing, who was clutching her side painfully.

"I'm none of your goddamn business." the woman hissed, and Bellamy raised his hands in surrender.

"It's okay, Clarke. They're here to help."

Just as the woman – Clarke – took her knife off his throat with great apprehension, Fox spoke up. "Like _hell_ we are. What are we doing here, Lorelei?" she asked, her hand going to her hip holster.

"We're safe here. For now. At nightfall, you can get past the wall – "

He didn't have time for this, he thought, running his hands down his face. They needed those guns. "What _are_ we smuggling?" Bellamy asked. Dr. Tsing didn't answer, but it dawned on him pretty quickly. "No way! We're smuggling _her_?" he said violently, balling his fists, feeling the need to punch something. Getting a package past the wall, fine. Getting a full grown _person_ there? A lot fucking harder and not something he felt like doing.

" _Her_ 's got a name!" Clarke said, equally as violent and her knife gleamed dangerously in her hand.

"Clarke, stay out of this!" Lorelei said sharply, and Clarke, although reluctantly, backed down. She crossed her arms and kept shooting looks between him and Fox. "You take her to the Capitol Building, hand her off the a couple of Fireflies, and the guns are yours. And then some."

"We ain't smuggling shit until we see the cargo." Fox said determinedly.

Lorelei sighed, sitting down with a painful wince and sighed. "Fine. It's back in camp. I'll take you to it."

Bellamy scoffed. He was _not_ going into a Firefly camp if he got paid a lifetime worth of rations. It was not worth it. "Don't think so, Doctor."

But Fox, who was clearly in a different state of mind than him, shot him a glare. "Fine. Take us to it."

"But I want Bellamy to watch over Clarke." Tsing said, which sparked a whole lot of shouting.

" _Bullshit_ , I'm _not_ staying with this _motherf_ – " Clarke yelled angrily.

"No way I'm staying with this _girl_ – " Bellamy protested at the same time.

Tsing held up her hand and hissed, "Clarke! These are good people."

Fox took him aside for a moment, while Tsing appeared to talk some sense into the fierce blonde woman. "Hey, I'll go with Tsing. You take the girl to the North Gate, wait for me there."

"Fox..." he said warningly.

"It's just cargo, Bell." she said, raising her hands. "And we need those guns."

Bellamy groaned, running a hand over his face wearily. "Alright fine." He turned to Tsing, who was still in conversation with Clarke.

"I was close with his sister Octavia. She said if I ever was in trouble, I could rely on him." Tsing reassured a very apprehensive looking Clarke. Obviously, she was just as keen to go with him as he was to take her anywhere.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at the mention of his sister. He hadn't seen or spoken to her in years, and the thought of her still stung. "Was that before or after she left your little militia group?" he sneered.

"Enough, Bell." Fox said, as she checked the rounds in her gun. "Alright, Lorelei. Lead the way."

"You stay close to Bellamy, all right?" Lorelei pressed on Clarke, who nodded curtly. "And you," she said to Bellamy, a lot less warmly than she had to Clarke, "You keep her safe. If anything happens to her, it's on you."

Bellamy nodded curtly too. "Alright then, follow me."

And with that, Bellamy and Clarke left the building they had just killed ten guards to get in to.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"So what are you, hmm? Some kind of big shot's daughter who needs to be brought to safety?"

"Something like that."

Bellamy scoffed. Her tone revealed nothing, yet he knew she wasn't telling the truth. "Well, whatever it is, Tsing sure as hell seemed keen to keep you safe."

"Look, I'm not supposed to tell you why you're smuggling me, so don't bother."

He grunted, kicking a door to release it from its jam and he went in wearily. The couch that was inside looked very appealing right about now, and he didn't waste any time sinking down on it. "We're here."

"What are you doing?"

"Killing time."

Silence.

"Well, what am _I_ supposed to do?"

Bellamy rolled over, his back facing her so that he didn't have to look at her. "I am sure you will figure that out, _Princess_."

Clarke sighed loudly, and he heard her moving to the window. More than that, he didn't hear, because he fell asleep soon after.

 **-BCTLOU-**

 _Almost_ there, Bellamy thought as he sneaked passed a couple of guards by diving into a crashed truck trailer. He heard Fox and Clarke right behind him, Clarke's breathing way too loud for his liking, her footsteps too heavy for the circumstances. He listened carefully for any sound at the end of the trailer, but didn't hear anything, so he motioned for the girls to follow him quietly.

As he emerged from the trailer back into the rain, a searing pain went through his skull and he fell to the ground with a groan, clutching his head.

" _Hands up, down on the ground!_ " he heard someone yell above him and he silently cursed. He'd missed the soldier.

" _Move!_ " he heard another one yell, and he felt Clarke and Fox being forced onto their knees beside him. " _Scan 'em, I'll call it in._ "

The pain in his skull faded slowly and he realized what was happening in full force. The soldiers were going to take them, and seeing as this Clarke girl was connected to the Fireflies, they were probably going to be executed. His mind was racing with possible scenarios, possible ways to get out of this, but he came up blank. No way he could reach his gun before they shot his brains out. Next to him, Clarke was muttering, panic in her voice. She had never been outside before, and obviously, she had never been in captivity before.

"Look the other way and we'll make it worth your while." Fox said to the guard who was taking out her walkie-talkie. The other one pressed a scanner to Fox's neck, which took a while, and then bleeped positive. Fox was clean.

" _Shut up._ " the female guard said in disdain. " _This is Ramirez, we've got stragglers out here._ "

Bellamy felt the scanner being pressed to his neck and he held his breath. He knew he was clean, but the scanners were known to have glitches. It bleeped positive, however, and he could breathe a little more freely. The guard moved to Clarke.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man." she muttered, as the guard pressed the scanner to her neck. "I'm sorry!" she yelled and suddenly, the guard yelled as Clarke buried her knife in his knee. Bellamy didn't hesitate. He ducked away from the other guard and knocked the screaming one away from Clarke, before he could do anything. Two shots rang out in quick succession and then silence. Fox lowered her gun with a fixed expression. "Oh God." Clarke said, moving back to lean against the trailer, breathing fast. "Fuck! I just thought we were going to knock them out! Shit!"

Breathing hard, Fox picked up the scanner and froze. "Bell." she said warningly, before handing it to him.

Confused at Fox's sudden fright, he looked down, only to feel his blood run cold. "What the _fuck_?!" he yelled, making Clarke jump. "Tsing saddled us with an Infected?"

Fox immediately trained her gun on Clarke, ready to shoot. Clarke yelled out, raising her hands. "Wait wait wait! I can explain!"

"Yeah? Well, you better do it fast!" Bellamy said, hurling the scanner in her direction. Her reflexes made her catch it.

"I'm not Infected!" she said, and both Fox and Bellamy scoffed in disbelief. He couldn't believe Tsing would do this. What was the plan? Get the girl outside the wall and then let her kill them off so that the Fireflies could have the weapons? "I'm not! Look!" Bellamy looked up as Clarke rolled up her sleeve, showing them a bite mark. "That's three weeks old! Three weeks!"

"Bullshit, it takes two days to turn!" Fox screamed.

"I'm telling you, it's three weeks!"

Bellamy stared at Clarke in a totally different light now. If she was telling the truth – and the jury was still out on that one – that meant she was immune. He understood why the Fireflies wanted her out of Boston. Out of any QZ to be exact. The military wasn't kind to Infected and didn't wait to hear an explanation before shooting people who had bite marks.

Bellamy opened his mouth to retort, but then a vehicle pulled up behind them, bathing them in light. "Shit! Move, _move!_ " he yelled and the three of them ran for it.

 **-BCTLOU-**

They were dead. After they had just fucking fought their way through a fucking army of Clickers and Runners in almost complete darkness, they had finally made their way into the capital building, only to find that the Fireflies that were supposed to be waiting for them to the Clarke of their hands were dead.

Fox promptly freaked out. "No, no! This can't be, this can't _fucking_ be happening!" She dropped down next to the dead Firefly in the entrance hall, frantically searching through his clothes.

"Fox, what are you doing? It's over!" Bellamy said, very aware of Clarke standing right behind him, trembling slightly.

"No! It can't be over! They have to have some kind of...map, or something to tell us where they were going!"

"Fox, this is it! We can't go on!" He pulled her up, but she pulled away. "Let's just go home."

"I can't!" Fox yelled, and everything went eerily silent as she suddenly calmed down as well. "This is it, Bell. End of the line for me."

"What are you talking about...?"

But Clarke slapped her hand over her mouth in horror, making Bellamy look at her with raised eyebrows. "Oh my God." she whispered. "She's Infected."

Bellamy whirled back to Fox, looking at her with wide eyes. She looked resigned, her eyes on the floor. "Show it to me." he demanded.

"Bell, I..."

"Show it to me!" he yelled. Fox stared him down for a moment, and then pulled her shirt away from her neck. The wound was horrible. The skin surrounding it was already turning a sickly reddish yellow, while the wound itself was festering, oozing blood and pus. It wasn't long before the fungi would reach her brain and start to affect her. "Damn it, Fox!" He turned his eyes away, unable to look at it for much longer. Fox stalked over to Clarke, yanking up the girl's sleeve.

"This is three weeks old, Bellamy! I was bitten an hour ago, and it's already worse! She may well hold the cure to mankind, Bell!"

"I can't – !"

"Bellamy!" Fox yelled, stepping close to him. "You have to go on. You have to take her to the Octavia."

"No." Bellamy said. "I'm _not_ going there." He crossed his arms

"She has contacts within the Fireflies, she can take her there." Fox continued stubbornly. "Please, Bellamy. At this point, after all we've been through, you have to feel some kind of obligation to me that you would do this for me. Please."

Bellamy stared at Fox for a long time, his mind racing. He wanted an out, he wanted to save Fox, but he knew he couldn't. She was Infected. She was dead the moment she was bitten. "Damn it, Fox." he said again. Then, outside, they heard the screeching of tires and soldiers yelling.

 _"_ _You're surrounded! We know you're in there! Come out with your hands in the air!"_

Fox looked up at Bellamy, her wide eyes pleading with him. "I'll hold them off as long as I can."

"No!" Clarke said, suddenly, stepping forward. Bellamy had almost forgotten she was here. She was crying silently, but wiping her cheeks in anger. "Fox, please."

"Clarke, you can save everyone. What's my life measured against the rest of mankind? Go with him. He'll keep you safe."

"I'm so sorry. I never wanted this." Clarke muttered.

Fox smiled. "I know. It's not your fault. Go, now." Bellamy just stared at Fox, who lost her temper. "Fucking go!" she yelled, pushing Bellamy away. With one last lingering look, he turned his back and lead Clarke out of the room, barricading the door. He had an immediate déjà-vu, to when he and his mother had left his father to fend for himself in that bar all those years ago. Only this time, he knew the one they were leaving behind would not return. He balled his fists for a moment, before he quickly scoured the place for supplies and ammo, ignoring Clarke who was heaving small breaths.

"I can't believe we just did that. Oh my God." she murmured, wringing her hands.

"Clarke." he said in warning as he made his way up the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy." she said, but he held up his hand to silence her. Gunshots were ringing out, and then a high-pitched scream followed. That was Fox, going down fighting. She would've wanted it that way, Bellamy thought, and that was his only consolation at losing his closest friend. "Shit." Clarke said, her voice breaking. Bellamy sneaked up on the balcony above the entrance hall and saw Fox, lying face down on the floor in a pool of her own blood, and two guards lying around her.

" _Goddamned Fireflies._ " one guard said. " _The woman is down. Took down two of my men. Searching the rest of the place for the others_."

Anger surged through his system as the guard kicked at Fox in disgust, but he couldn't do anything. "C'mon, we gotta get out of there."

They got out fighting, the riffle that he found with one of the dead Fireflies a handy addition that got them relatively unscathed through the dozens of guards. Jumping out of a window, they avoided one other guard who he'd missed in his haste to get out and ran towards the subway. "Spores!" he hissed, and quickly put on his gasmask. He was so distracted that he missed the two guards ahead of him, and he would've gotten killed if Clarke hadn't pulled him behind a crate, and out of the line of sight just in time. He looked at her, and saw to his astonishment that she wasn't wearing a gas mask. And it didn't look like she was losing her mind anytime soon. "How do you breathe in this stuff?"

She looked slightly offended, but her voice was soft as she said, "I wasn't lying to you."

Bellamy knew, at that moment, that his world would never be the same again.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Wow." Clarke breathed as they jumped over the railing off the highway and into the woods.

"What?" Bellamy asked, falling in step next to her, his hand on his gun (always) and his eyes on the water tower ahead. He had to keep that one ahead of him, before they could enter Murphy's town.

"Nothing. Just...never seen so many trees together before. And it smells so good out here." Laughing, Clarke began running ahead, turning on her heels a couple of times and inhaling deeply. "Was this what it used to be?"

"Yeah. I don't really remember, but my dad and I used to take hiking trips in places like this so I remember the smell." He smiles as she kneels down by a creek and runs her hands through the water. She giggles in wonder as a fish comes by to nip at her fingers before rushing away again. "Clarke, how old are you?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Twenty-one. Why?"

"Just wondering. So you were just one years old, huh?" Clarke nodded, not having to ask what he was talking about. "So was my sister. She doesn't remember before. It's strange."

Clarke smiled softly. "I can imagine. Shall we continue?"

He nodded his assent, and they continued on, stopping every now and then to listen for Infected. They were good until they sneaked through a hole in the fence, thus entering the town. They ran across two Clickers, who were easily distracted and then taken out. Clarke, who had been scared at the start, now only let out a shaky breath, before moving on. They made their way across town, towards the smoke that was rising ahead. He was pretty sure that it was Murphy. He didn't know of anyone else living here, so he was banking very hard on it.

He knew if he couldn't find Murphy, it would be a _very_ long road to Jackson.

"So how do you know this guy?" Clarke asked as the sun began to lower on the horizon, her hands buried in her pockets, her eyes scanning the environment constantly. Good, she was becoming vigilant. That was good. She'd stay alive longer.

"He owes me a couple of favours. I saved his ass a few times way back when. He's also not good with people so when we find him, you let me do the talking. Alright?"

Clarke huffed, but agreed. They cut through an alley, but before they had even moved two steps, a Clicker appeared out of nowhere. Bellamy reached for his gun, but right then the Clicker fucking exploded. Clarke's eyes went extremely wide. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed.

"Bill's been setting traps. Better watch your step." Bellamy muttered, quickly walking forward to inspect the wall where the Clicker had been just seconds ago. "Yeah, see?" He pointed to the remnants of a small device attached to the wall. Clarke crouched beside him, looking fascinated. "I'll bet you anything there was a tripwire here. Touch the wire, the entire thing explodes."

"That's awesome. Also, paranoid much?" she raised a perfect eyebrow, and Bellamy snorted.

"Understatement." He pushed himself up, looking around before helping her on her feet as well. "Can't be far now."

They walked for about ten minutes, climbing over walls and rooftops.

"Hey, Bellamy, look at this!" Clarke called, and held up what looked like a bow. She was testing the string and looking excited. "This is very nice. 's Not been here long, it's still very strong." she told him as he joined her.

"Want it?" he asked.

She looked surprised, an excited gleam in her eyes that made him smile a bit. She was quite beautiful when they weren't fighting for their lives, he noticed. "You'd give me this?"

"Yeah. I got a shotgun, riffle, three different handguns and Molotov cocktails. I'm good for now. You need to defend yourself. As long as you don't shoot me, you can have that."

He wasn't sure he'd seen her this excited in the time that he'd come to know her. Her smile was contagious, because he broke into a small grin as well, watching her practice for a moment with the bow. "Here, some arrows. Found them back there, sticking out of this guy." He handed her the three arrows. "I don't know when or if we'll find more so make your shots count and if they're intact and if it's safe, always retrieve them."

"Yes, sir." Clarke said with a wink.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Hanging upside down while being attacked by Infected was _not_ a fun experience, Bellamy discovered. His neck still hurt from aiming the wrong way up and then landing hard on his back after Clarke finally got him free. His arms were covered in scratches from the one Clicker that almost got him, and his mood isn't all that cheery.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Blake?" Murphy asked violently, after they'd finally escaped the raging Infected into a bar. "And who the fuck is she?" He pointed at Clarke who looked like she would bite his head off – if she wasn't chained to a radiator pipe. Bellamy was standing in between the two, to prevent Murphy from killing Clarke and to prevent Clarke from making rash decisions she'd later regret.

"Calm down, John, she's OK." he said, raising his hands in surrender. "We need your help."

"Fucking hell, Blake, you come into my town, setting off all my traps, almost getting yourself and me killed, and you expect my help?" Murphy growled. "Jesus, you've really lost it. Where's Fox anyway?"

"She's busy." Bellamy said through gritted teeth.

Murphy looked at him, sizing him up, and then his eyes turned hard again. "Who is this?" he then said again, grabbing Clarke by the arm. Big mistake. Clarke wrenched herself free, tearing the pipe from the wall and slamming it in Murphy's business. Bellamy winced as Murphy doubled over, coughing.

"I'm none of your fucking concern and we're here because you owe Bellamy some favors, so you better back off!" she said, raising the pipe again. "And don't you dare touch me ever again!"

Bellamy, foreseeing a lot of trouble, grabbed Clarke's arm and wrenching the pipe from her hands. "I need you to stay back." He pushed her backwards, away from Murphy, who was slowly recovering.

Clarke looked up at him with a furious expression, not unlike the one she'd sent Tsing not long ago, but nodded bitterly. "But I swear, if he touches me..."

"I will not let that happen. Promise, okay?" He looked Clarke straight in the eye to press upon her how serious he was. She nodded again, and Bellamy turned around.

"Listen, Murphy, we need a car."

Murphy burst out laughing at that one, leaning on one of the nearby tables to hold himself up. Bellamy could hear the sarcasm dripping off it. Not many people had really laughed in a very long time. "You're hilarious, Blake. Sure! Let me just go to my garage and drive one of my many cars around, shan't I? Do you need a driver as well?"

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Murphy. We need that car. I wouldn't be asking you if it wasn't absolutely vital that we get out of here. I'm begging you here. After that I will never ask a favour of you again."

The glare Murphy sent his way was enough to scare better men than him, but Bellamy knew Murphy. He was a lot of talk and a lot of murderous glances, but the man had never taken a life that wasn't absolutely necessary. "Fine. I'll _try_ and help you. I can't make promises. And after this, we're done."

"Fair enough." Bellamy said, holding up his hand. Murphy shot him a deadly look but slapped the keys to the handcuffs in his hand.

Clarke looked simply murderous when he uncuffed her. She rubbed her wrist and was muttering low under her breath. "...fucker." he heard her say, which made him shoot her a warning look.

"Just..." he said, exasperated, running his hand over his face. "Ignore him."

"Well, take everything and anything you might need from this place, we'll not come back here again!" Murphy yelled, who was making his way towards the back, a key ring jingling in his hand. Bellamy gave Clarke a nod, and they quickly picked up everything they could use. Bellamy was relieved to find six new rounds for his gun – the Infected attack had depleted it.

"Ready to go?" Murphy asked, exasperated, when the two of them joined him by the back door.

Bellamy looked sideways at Clarke, who had a determined look on her face. Bellamy grasped his gun and tightened his hold on it. "Ready."

 **-BCTLOU-**

"The son of a bitch stole my idea!" Murphy grunted, as he checked the battery in the car. They'd fought their way to a car that was supposed to have a battery, but it had been empty. After running for their lives from the Infected (shit, there'd been a Bloater, he'd have nightmares about that one for a couple of weeks), they had barricaded themselves inside a house.

Turned out it was Atom's house, Murphy's former partner. Or it used to be, as said former partner had strung himself up on the ceiling fan.

Murphy acted all tough and angry, but Bellamy saw through him either way. The loss had hit him hard.

Right now, Murphy was bent over the engine of the car Clarke had found in the garage, and cursing freely. The battery they had risked their lives for to get, was sitting in this car. Atom had beaten them to it.

With little trouble, they pushed it outside, and off a hill, so that Clarke could start it, and with Infected hot on their heels, they quickly left the town behind them.

 **-BCTLOU-**

After dropping Murphy off, they drove for a long time. The sun was slowly sinking behind the trees flanking the road, and Bellamy could feel himself drifting off slowly. The road was becoming boring to look at after so many hours, and he couldn't remember the last time he slept. That was probably at the North Gate. He leaned heavily on his hand, his eyes drooping. He was about to fall asleep when he was saved by Clarke groaning in the backseat.

He sat up quickly, blinking himself awake. "Hey, what happened to sleeping?" he said into the rear view mirror. Clarke rolled her eyes, squeezing herself back onto the front seat.

"Do you need to sleep? I thought I saw you drifting off; I can drive for a while."

"Nah, I'm good." Bellamy said. Her wakeful presence had woke him up too, and he was now fully focused on the road again. "What do ya got there?"

Clarke thumbed the magazine in her hands with a smile. "It's a comic book, and it's not a bad read actually." Bellamy scoffed, because he'd read comics and he knew what kind of read they were. Let's just say they weren't his cup of tea. He preferred ancient history stories. Much more interesting. "But it ends on a cliffhanger, and I haven't got the sequel."

"How did you even get that?"

Clarke blushed a bit, biting her lip, before answering. "Back at Murphy's." At Bellamy's scolding look, she rolled her eyes. "He wasn't even using them, all that stuff was just lying there!"

Bellamy rolled his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. He swore, this girl was going to be the death of him. Either she would piss off someone so much they would kill him, or she would do it herself. "Jesus, Princess." he muttered.

"What?" she said, with a smile. "Don't tell me you weren't tempted by one of those books. I saw you staring at them longingly!" Her finger prodded into his arm and he pulled a face. Clarke giggled. "You love reading?"

He considered, for a moment, not to divulge. But heck, they'd come this far. She deserved a bit of human contact. "Yeah. Especially historical fiction. If it's about the Roman mythological, even better."

Clarke stared at him, blinking. Bellamy didn't say anything else, and waited to hear the verdict she cast upon hearing this tidbit of information about him. Everybody else found it stupid, his affection towards history. Surely, she would, too. "Wow. I didn't peg you for a history buff. But now that I know...it suits you."

It was Bellamy's turn to blink in surprise. "Really?" Clarke nodded with a smile, thumbing through the pages of the comic absentmindedly. "Most people just laugh."

That did make Clarke laugh; clear, genuine laughter rang through the car. "Why would I laugh at you for your reading preferences? Back in the Firefly facility where I was raised, I used to read only medical journals from before." At Bellamy's raised brow, she answered, "I don't know. I wanted to be a doctor or something."

"Very ambitious, Princess."

Clarke smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time. "Yeah. But I guess life had a different idea for me, huh?"

Bellamy nodded, not saying anything. The mood had turned in a fraction of a second, and he too felt a pang of sorrow for the life they both never could have. Before the Infection started, he'd dreamed of going to the best high school and University there was, and becoming a teacher. He'd known that ever since his kind kindergarten teacher, who entranced him with her gentleness and steadiness with which she controlled the class. He wanted to do that. And of course, helping to raise O had helped, because it turned out he was very good with smaller children. "For us all, I think." he said eventually, as they passed the Pittsburgh city line. "OK, here we go." he said, though he wasn't sure why he was warning her. However, as they approached the city, he got an increasingly bad feeling about the whole situation, and he kept his guard up high.

And indeed, only a minute into the city center, they hit a roadblock. Bellamy slammed the break, making Clarke slam forward in her seatbelt. She braced herself on the dashboard just in time to prevent her face from slamming into it. "What the hell?!" she exclaimed, before looking up. "Oh. Now what?"

Bellamy worried his lower lip with his teeth, looking in the rear view mirror at the empty road they'd just come down. He had two options, and neither were very attractive. He was about 99.9% sure that if they continued down the exit on the right that wasn't blocked, they'd run into hunters who would kill them for their clothes if they got the chance, but if he went back, he'd never reach O this year. "Damn it." he muttered, and turned the car onto the exit. He'd take his chances with the hunters. They were a damn sight easier to kill then the Infected, and they'd fought their way through more of those than he thought he could handle. "Stay sharp." he said to Clarke. The blonde nodded, her eyes fixed on the road ahead of her. Smart as she was, she'd already felt how apprehensive he was about this road.

It took them ten minutes of swerving between crashed and abandoned cars before Bellamy was proved right. A guy was stumbling towards them, making him brake hard again. Clarke cocked her head, watching the guy stagger closer. "What's up with him?" she asked.

Bellamy waited for a few moments, his eyes fixed on the ragged looking man, and then he saw what he needed. "Buckle up, Clarke, and hold tight." She did as he asked, and the moment she was safe, he stepped on it, racing hard towards the seemingly wounded guy. It took the latter one second to respond, and then he whipped out a gun and started shooting. Clarke screamed as the windshield cracked, and she ducked down. Bellamy jerked the steering wheel, trying to get around the hunters that were now flooding the streets in front of them, but he quickly lost control of the car. Clarke screamed, and then they crashed into a building, and everything went dark.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Bellamy leaned against one of the shelves in the library, breathing hard and wiping his nose on his sleeve. Blood tainted the fabric when he moved his hand away. Fucking hunters. Say what you like about their shooting skills, their punches are well-placed and their Molotov cocktails are very accurately thrown. He could smell some singed hair and felt at the back of his neck. Some of his curls were smouldering, and he groaned. He hated having to cut his hair, but with the back of it ruined, he might have to, if he had the time any time soon. Clarke was sitting against another bookcase, clutching her arm and breathing hard through her nose, her eyes shut tight in pain. Bellamy swallowed thickly, and moved over to crouch in front of her.

"You okay?" he asked, placing a calming hand on her knee. Her eyes opened, and he found tears in her eyes.

But she nodded bravely. "My arm..." she muttered, taking her hand of it. He saw a nasty burn, ranging from just below her shoulder to just above her elbow. "One of those fucking Molotov cocktails exploded right beside me. Fucking bastards."

"Come here." He reached inside his backpack, taking out a bandage and some soothing salve and began treating her wound with care. She sat there silently, not complaining, her breathing calming with every breath she took.

"Thank you." she said, when he was done. He nodded, but didn't quite take her word for it, and took her chin between his fingers and inspecting her. "What are you doing?" she asked impatiently, trying to break free.

"Trying to see if you're okay. If you die on my watch, not only will my sister kill me, I would kill myself before she got to me. You're the last hope for humanity, I can't let you die." That last part was partly true. She was the last hope for humanity, but that wasn't why he was saving her. Not anymore. There was something more now, something deeper, something that made him so protective; he hadn't felt that for somebody in a very long time.

Clarke narrowed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "Bellamy, I'm okay. I promise." She placed her hand over his and smiled. "We keep going?"

Bellamy handed her a bottle of water from his pack, took a deep breath and rose. "We keep going. From here, it's not far to Jackson." He held out his hand to her, and after a moment, she took it, letting him pull her to her feet. "Ready?"

She hoisted her pack on her shoulders and took a deep, steadying breath. "Ready."

 **-BCTLOU-**

Leaving the city was harder than he thought. There were hunters _everywhere._ The bridge he had hoped to cross was blocked by a whole bunch of them at all hours of the day and to add to that, there were Infected at random places in the city.

Considering he was now being held at gun point by what looked like a 16 year old kid, he was not a happy camper. "Wow, there!" Clarke said, stepping in front of Bellamy, who was lying on the ground, next to an out of breath slightly older boy, who was clutching his ribs. Bellamy had given him his worst punches.

"It's okay, Jazz!" the boy gasped as he stood up. "They're friendly."

"How do you know?" the kid asked, still keeping his gun trained steadily on them. Bellamy felt uneasy, the gun now trained on Clarke, and that was not a position he'd want her in.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but they don't exactly keep women around here." the guy snarked, taking hold of the gun and wrenching it out of the boy's grip. "It's okay." he assured him in a softer voice. Then he turned to Bellamy, who was now on his feet and had moved in front of Clarke on instinct. "You pack quite a punch."

"I was trying to kill you." Bellamy remarked casually. Now that he figured these two weren't an actual threat to them, he relaxed _slightly_.

"I'm Clarke." Clarke said, side-stepping Bellamy and holding her hand out to the boys.

"Clarke..." Bellamy said under his breath.

She rolled his eyes at him, and shook hands with the Asian kid Bellamy had tried to kill not minutes before. "Monty." the boy said. "That's my brother Jasper. Well, I say brother..."

"As good as!" Jasper said defiantly, and Monty grinned, slinging his arm around the boy's neck.

"That's right."

"This is Bellamy." Clarke said, when it was clear Bellamy wasn't about to introduce himself. Bellamy scowled at her. He'd preferred to stay anonymous.

"Pleasure." Monty said cheerfully. Bellamy was surprised he was so cheerful, as if they hadn't been trying to kill each other. "Where're you going?"

"We're trying to get out of the city."

"Same." Jasper said, with a smile. "How 'bout we stick together for a while, huh?"

Clarke nodded eagerly, but Bellamy shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea." he said to Clarke, who pouted at him in the most adorable fashion.

"Oh, come on, party pooper. Strength in numbers, and all that?"

Monty heaved a backpack on his back, and opened the door to the apartment, leading out into a hallway. "I think she's right. Anyway, Jazz and I have to get moving. Tag along, or don't."

Clarke threw Bellamy her strongest puppy look, making Bellamy soften. He ran his hand over his face in an agonized groan and then threw his hands in the air. "Fine!" he said. "Fine, we'll come." Clarke clapped her hands excitedly and immediately ran to catch up with the two boys.

"Teaming up with a couple of kids," Bellamy muttered to himself, " _Diyos_ , if this kills me..."

 **-BCTLOU-**

Getting outside of the city was a laugh compared to what they encountered in the underground shelter they stumbled upon just outside the city. At first sight, it appeared to be abandoned, but the deeper they got, the clearer it became how bad this had gotten. They found evidence of children being mercy-killed to prevent them from turning. Bellamy had heard the stories of parents killing their children in their sleep to prevent it, but seeing evidence of it now...he felt sick.

The place was laden with supplies and ammo, which was good, because after a while, they began running into more and more infected.

And then they were separated, Clarke and Monty on one side of the trap door, he and Jasper on the other. Before they could even try to get the door open again, Clarke and Monty had to run or their lives, and Bellamy was left with Jasper to worry about them. Determined not to find Clarke dead when he found a way back to her, he pressed on, killing Infected with no mercy and with more viciousness than ever before. He was even sure he scared Jasper a couple of times with his tactics.

"Come on, kid." he said to Jasper, after he'd bashed the last Infected's skull in with a pickaxe. Jasper followed him quietly. Bellamy couldn't help but notice how much quieter he was without Monty around. "So how'd you and Monty end up together?"

Jasper, obviously relieved to have something to talk about as they made their way through the underground maze, launched into the story immediately. "We grew up together, just outside of Pittsburgh, in one of the few colonies on the Outside. His parents died shortly after his sixth birthday and mine followed soon after so it was really just the two of us. He took care of me. We're like brothers, honestly."

Their conversation was cut off for a moment when a Clicker entered their path, that Bellamy quickly took out with some nice shiv-work.

"Anyway, how did you and Clarke end up together?" Jasper continued, as if they hadn't been attacked by a screaming Infected.

"I promised someone I'd take care of her." Bellamy said, and that was all he could say on the subject – thankfully – as they heard shouting up ahead.

"Is that them?"

They ran forward, jumping down a drainage pipe, and two figures came tumbling down another one. "There they are!" Monty said, who immediately ran over to Jasper to look at him.

"Oh thank God." Clarke muttered, flinging herself in Bellamy's arms before either of them could think. Bellamy hugged her back, a little surprised but not complaining. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." he said, looking her up and down to check for any injuries. He was pleased to find none.

Clarke looked over her shoulder anxiously. "There's a shitload of Infected coming our way, we have to move!"

They ran for it.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Monty threw the door shut behind them and he and Bellamy placed a tree trunk in front of it for good measure. The Infected were banging at the door, but at least it wouldn't budge.

They were all panting heavily, having struggled with way more Infected than they could handle. Bellamy had shot as much as he could, throwing Molotovs here and there to take a couple at a time, but they'd kept coming. He wasn't sure what they would've done if Clarke hadn't been so small and hadn't fitted through that window above the door.

"Everyone okay?" he asked, as he gulped for precious fresh air, leaning forwards on his knees. Around him, he heard affirming sounds. Clarke was standing a way back, staring incredulously at the wall of the compound they'd just left. Curious, Bellamy looked too. He groaned. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

There was a large message written on the wall. INFECTED ZONE. DO NOT ENTER.

Clarke shook her head. "Thanks for the warning on the other side, guys." she said, spitting out some blood.

"There's the radio tower." Monty said, pointing straight ahead. "My people should be there." He exchanged weary looks with Bellamy, but didn't say anything else. Bellamy knew what he was thinking. There was a very small chance there were still people there.

"Let's get going then." he said, putting confidence in their voice. At this point, it was their only chance.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Clarke screamed, making both Bellamy and Monty jump up, the contents of their breakfast spilling all over the floor. The door, through which Clarke had just disappeared, burst open and she and Jasper came spilling out. Except Jasper wasn't exactly Jasper anymore. He had a crazed look on his face, his eyes bloodshot and he was snarling as he jumped on top of Clarke, who tripped and fell.

Monty and Bellamy stared for a split second, hardly able to understand how this had happened. They had been so careful. "He's Infected!" Bellamy yelled, and to his horror, he saw Jasper's jaws snap dangerously close to Clarke's neck. Clarke, who was furiously trying to keep Jasper at bay, was yelling out in fear. Bellamy made up his mind. Jasper was beyond saving. It didn't matter that Clarke couldn't be infected. It was mercy to kill Jasper now. He scrambled for his gun, but a shot rang out, the bullet landing inches from his hand.

Monty was standing there, his face white, his hands shaking. "That's my brother!" he screamed. Clarke yelped in pain when Jasper's nails scratched her arm.

"Fuck this!" Bellamy yelled, diving for his gun and hoping against all hope that Monty wouldn't shoot him. Yet another shot rang out, and for a moment Bellamy though Monty _had_ shot him. But the room had gone quiet, and Clarke was scrambling to her feet. Jasper lay dead on the ground.

Monty let out a wail of despair and then pointed his gun at Bellamy once again. Bellamy raised his hands in surrender; Monty was devastated and Bellamy knew better than anyone in this room that devastated people did stupid things. "Jazz...he was my brother...it's _your_ fault!" he yelled, sobbing loudly.

"Monty!" Clarke said in shock, her eyes darting from the gun to Bellamy, who was trying to remain calm.

"Calm down, Monty. It's nobody's fault." he said softly.

Monty's eyes flickered to Jasper, he let out another cry and before either of them knew what was happening, a third and final shot rang out, ending Monty Green's life.

* * *

 _ **Reviews feed my muse, and she's a hungry lass. If you could take a moment, it would make my day!**_


	2. Fall

**Thus, one month later, I finally have the second part for you! It was harder for me for some reason, but I've got a good part of the next part written, so hopefully that won't take so long!**

 **Tension rises between our two heroes, and some tender moments are shared.**

* * *

 _Fall_

Clarke didn't speak for two days, not until they reached a sign that read 'Jackson County'. Bellamy knew she was grieving, having watched both Jasper and Monty die just two days prior. He let her grieve, but didn't treat her any differently. He had a feeling she wouldn't take kindly to him treating her like she was gonna break any time soon.

"Jackson County." Clarke said, tracing the letters with her fingers, and then turning her head to look at him. "Mean we're almost there?"

Bellamy nodded. "Yup. Shouldn't take more than a few hours to get to Jackson."

They climbed down to the river bed, and Bellamy remembered that this thing used to flow from Jackson, through a power plant, and then all the way back to Pittsburgh. If only they'd been able to follow it directly from Pittsburgh. They probably wouldn't have lost Monty and Jasper.

Fucking hunters.

"So what happened?" Clarke asked, suddenly, shaking him out of the depths of his own thoughts.

He blinked at her as he tried not to slip on rocks. "Huh?"

"Between you and Octavia?"

Bellamy turned away from her, carefully shielding his face. "What makes you think something happened?"

Clarke snorted. "You're here, and she's not. You have this edge in your voice when you talk about her. It's not that hard."

Bellamy sighed. "I looked at the world one way, she looked at it another." he said, hoping she heard the finality in his voice. He wasn't keen on discussing this with her.

Clarke heard it. He heard her swallow and then she caught up with him. "Sorry. I didn't want to upset you."

He smiled at her, turning his head to throw her a soothing smile. "It's okay. It's only natural to be curious. We just...drifted apart. Nothing else to it." He buried his hands in his pockets with a sigh.

Clarke slipped her arm through his and squeezed him tightly. "I'm sorry, Bell. I shouldn't have asked."

Bellamy froze, blinking at her. "What did you just call me?" he asked, astounded. He was pretty sure no one in her vicinity had ever called him that. He'd forbidden Fox to call him that after Octavia left.

Clarke became immediately flustered, her face reddening in a furious blush and she stuttered, "I-I'm sorry. I make a habit of nicknaming people when I like them enough. I shouldn't have."

Bellamy shook his head. He was surprised to find that he didn't mind when she called him that. "It's alright. I – I don't mind. It's just...Octavia used to always call me that."

He could feel the understanding wash from her, and her arm tightened around his again. "You sound like you love her very much."

Bellamy nodded. "I do. After everything, I still do."

Clarke sighed. "I wish I had a sibling."

"It's not all that it's cracked up to be, you know." Bellamy said, coaxing a laugh out of Clarke. It was a lovely sound, that made Bellamy crack a smile too. "Siblings are pains in the ass. They always make you worry."

Clarke smiled at him, prompting him to continue, and he reminisced for a while, telling Clarke about all the crazy things Octavia used to get up to as she was growing up. He made Clarke laugh more than once, and every time her bright laugh rang out through the woods and over the water, he wished she would never stop. He wished this world would stop beating her down when she was just getting up. He wished he could give her a better world than this.

"Wow." Clarke said, suddenly stopping and starring. Bellamy looked up and his jaw dropped too. He had read about these things, but he had _never_ seen one in real life and it was _much_ bigger than he imagined. "What is it?"

"A power plant." Bellamy said in awe, as he slowly approached the enormous installation. "It used to give entire cities electricity."

Clarke's mouth was hanging open. "Wow. How does it work?"

Bellamy smiled. "The movement of the water made sure some machines started doing stuff, and that should generate electricity." He side-eyed her bashfully. "I don't actually know how to explain it to you without extremely difficult technical terms. My friends used to say I could sound like I swallowed a text book when it came to useless facts like this."

Clarke laughed again, and she excitedly climbed the stairs up to the top of the dam. "That's okay. I think I can figure it out." Bellamy followed her, smiling lightly at her excitement. She stared in fascination at the water rushing down into the river below and he let her take it all in for just a moment. "I can't imagine how complex this world was. All of this...wow. I'm sorry I missed it."

Bellamy put a hand on her shoulder, and she started. "Well, that world wasn't all that it was made out to be, either. That world had its own problems." She nodded, staring at the water once more. "Come on." Bellamy said, squeezing her shoulder lightly. "We have to find a way to get to the other side."

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Hands up!" someone yelled and both Bellamy and Clarke jumped back. Clarke had her arrow trained on the bald man standing up on the wall surrounding the power plant. Bellamy was kind of surprised there were people here. He had not expected it. "Drop the weapons. Do it!"

"Clarke." Bellamy said, nodding at her. She lowered her bow with a glower at the two men.

"What are you doing here?" the man demanded, coming into full view. Bellamy decided then and there not to piss him off. This man was _huge_.

"We're trying to get to Jackson, we're just passing through. I didn't think there were people here."

The man narrowed his eyes at them. "Well, there are. So turn around and walk away. You can't come – "

" _Lincoln_!" A female voice cut through the air and Bellamy turned around, his heart stopping for a moment. He knew that voice. He'd know it anywhere. "It's okay, they're not hunters!" There was some commotion behind the gate Bellamy'd been trying to force his way through just minutes earlier and then it opened, revealing a slender woman with olive skin, dark hair and even darker eyes.

"How do you know?"

She smiled, and took a step towards Bellamy, who was gaping like an idiot. "Because he's my big brother." Octavia said. "Hey, Bell."

His nickname shook him out of his stupor and he took a good look at her. "My god." he said softly. "Look at how big you are."

Octavia laughed and launched herself into Bellamy's arms. All around them, he heard guns being put down, and people resuming their activities as if nothing had happened. O let him go and examined him. "You got old, big brother."

"Shut up." he said, pushing her away from him teasingly and she laughed. Oh, how he'd missed her laugh; ringing, loud and true. That had not changed in all those years they'd been apart. The giant man had joined them now, and he looked even more intimidating up close. "Thanks." Bellamy said to him, extending his hand. "For not shooting us and everything."

The man shook his head with a small smile. "It would've been embarrassing, seeing as I'm your brother-in-law."

He heard Clarke snort as his jaw dropped and he turned to look at Octavia with wide eyes. His little sister – not so little anymore – just shrugged with a smile. "Hey, one of us had to grow up, right?"

Bellamy shook his head, and decided to skip over this subject. He was not ready to talk boyfriends – or in this case, _husband_ – with her. "Octavia, this is Clarke. She's – "

" _My_ sister-in-law?" Octavia said pointedly.

It was amazing what a few words could do to two people. Both Clarke and Bellamy immediately went into the defence, proclaiming _loudly_ and often that _no_ , they were not boyfriend/girlfriend, and neither were they married. They were just _friends_. Lincoln and Octavia led them into the camp after that, but Bellamy knew that they didn't believe him. Heck, he began to doubt it himself. _Were_ he and Clarke just friends? Octavia was still chuckling.

Clarke gasped when she saw that they had horses and they spent a good five minutes petting them, Clarke having a blissful expression on her face. She'd never seen horses before. Even he, with his six years before all hell broke loose, had seen horses.

"So, big brother. What are you doing here?" Octavia said, as they made their way inside the plant.

"Well, we were going to Jackson to find you. I didn't realize there were people here at all." Bellamy said, slinging his arm around his sister and pulling her against him. He'd had too long a time without her. He wanted to be close to her for now. Before he had to tell her why he was here.

"Yeah well...we got the plant going again, Bell. We have electricity. Well, we _had_."

Bellamy's eyes widened at her. "You serious?"

Octavia nodded. "One of the turbines blew after four days of use, but the scientists are more than sure that this time it's going to work." Then she turned to look at Clarke. "Are you hungry?"

Clarke, who had been complaining about a growling stomach just before they'd reached the gate, nodded fervently. "Starving."

"Why don't we all go get some food and then we'll go see about those turbines."

Bellamy heard his own stomach rumbling at the mention of food and he nodded, following his sister and Lincoln deeper into the plant.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Clarke and Bellamy got a room for their own at the end of the day. Bellamy had agreed to stay the night, because to be frank, he was exhausted and wanted a decent bed for a change. There were two bunk beds in this room, and it took Clarke only a second to dive for the one nearest the window, where the final sunlight of the day was pouring in. Bellamy chuckled and settled on the other bed, placing his pack strategically near him so he could snatch it up at a moment's notice.

Clarke groaned. "It's been too fucking long since I slept in a real bed." she whispered, before rolling over and falling asleep. Bellamy settled on his side, laying his head on his arm and he tried to go to sleep. It took him five minutes to realize that he was staring at her back, her golden hair that lay tangled and a bit dirty over her pillow. He made a mental note to take her down to the river tomorrow morning so that she could wash off all the blood and dirt she'd accumulated on her person since leaving Pittsburgh. He knew how much washing off could make one feel like a person again.

He didn't know how long he stared at her. He saw the sun disappear and saw her bathed in moonlight. He didn't sleep much. He just stared at her, marvelling at her beauty and her spirit. At how she could still be amazed by this world that had tried its hardest to beat her down. She was a strong woman, and he could feel himself slowly realizing how important she was to him. When he was concerned about her, it was no longer because she may very well hold the cure to mankind, but because he couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her. Of losing her.

He cursed silently and he flung himself onto his back, raking his hand through his hair. Was he _seriously_ falling in love with this woman? Because that was just what he needed; feelings. As if this journey wasn't dangerous enough without him willing to risk his life to save hers.

" _No...no, please_." Bellamy was startled out of his furious thoughts by a soft whimper from the other bed. He glanced over at her, and saw her shoulders shaking. She had curled in on herself, and her breathing had sped up. " _Lexa! No, no, please, leave her alone, it's not her fault!"_ Clarke screamed and thrashed in her bed, and Bellamy shot up and sat down on her bed.

"Clarke!" he yelled, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. She screamed and cried, tears streaming down her face. "Clarke, wake up! You're alright, you're safe!" He shook her again, hard. His heart was pounding in his ears. He had never heard her scream like that, not even when two Clickers had grabbed her seconds before he'd shot them both in quick succession. With a wail, she woke, her eyes shooting open, fear swimming behind those beautiful blue eyes, and she launched herself around his neck. He held her tight, rubbing her back and whispering softly into her hair. "Shh, you're okay. You're okay, I'm here, nobody's going to hurt you."

"Bellamy..." she sobbed, clutching his shirt tightly.

"Shhh..." he whispered, rocking her. The door slammed open with a bang, causing her to trembling in his arms even more, but it was only Octavia, looking alarmed and worried. " _Nightmare_." he mouthed at her, and she left, understanding in her eyes. "It's okay." he whispered to Clarke. "You're safe here. Nobody's going to harm you."

She shook her head, her face still buried in his shirt. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't...it's my fault, it's my fault. I killed her."

"Who?" he asked softly, as he repositioned himself on the bed so she could lie down again. He held her tight against him, making sure she knew he wasn't going anywhere. "Lexa? You screamed her name." She nodded again, but didn't speak. "Look, if you want to tell me, I'm here, alright? I'll listen."

She shook her head, still shaking. "Noo..." she whimpered.

"Okay." he whispered, stroking her hair. "Okay. Go to sleep, Clarke. I'll protect you."

She sniffed a couple of times, and then slowly calmed down. She didn't let go of him, but he could feel her grasp gently relaxing until she finally, _finally_ fell asleep. Once she was gone, it was easier for him to fall asleep too. He held her tightly, intending to protect her from any harm, and slowly relaxed into the first real sleep he'd had in ages.

 **-BCTLOU-**

They awoke to find the compound in an excited flutter. The scientists were laying the final hand on the turbines and in a few hours, perhaps there would be electricity. Clarke and Bellamy didn't talk about them sleeping in the same bed at all. She acted as she would normally, all excited about the prospect of electricity and asking the scientists a hundred and one questions about how it worked, while he hung back, talking to Octavia.

He still had to tell her why they were here.

And she was well aware of it.

Clarke was nearly ecstatic when the turbines started up again, and she started darting around them, gazing up at the turbine as it slowly purred to life, and Bellamy laughed. She was surrounded by scientists and guards, and he felt sure he could leave her alone for a moment. "O, can I talk to you?" he murmured, and Octavia nodded. Steeling himself, he let her lead him to a private room

He took a deep breath, and began to tell the story.

 **-BCTLOU-**

She was both pissed and excited.

Pissed because he'd come to her because of another reason than visiting her. "So you wouldn't have come and found me if it wasn't for Clarke?!" (His cheek still stung a bit.)

Excited because "The cure for mankind, Bell!"

She hadn't liked his idea of her taking Clarke to the Fireflies (his other cheek still stung for that one, too), and they had had some harsh words about it.

And now he was crouched behind one of the turbines, his heart pounding in his throat as bullets rained down on him from every direction. He was being shot at by hunters, and all he could think of was _Clarke, Clarke, Clarke, Clarke_. Lincoln had contacted Octavia just as the hunters had entered the building, and Bellamy had heard _her_ scream in the background before the transmission was cut off. They knew where she and Lincoln were, but getting to them was an entirely different story. He held his shotgun tight against him, as he waited for the hunter to reload. He heard the telltale click of an empty mag, dived from behind his cover, aimed and the next second, blood splattered everywhere.

"Alright, that's all of them!" Octavia yelled, brandishing a seriously deadly looking, long-ass knife. When she'd grabbed it, and seen his expression, she'd just shrugged, "What?" she'd said, "You like guns, I like sharp things. We've all got our preferences."

The blade was stained with blood now, and she looked fiercer than ever. She had grown up in the time they'd been apart. "We have to find Clarke and Lincoln!" Bellamy yelled at her, and she nodded, her lips thin with worry. They tore through to the other side of the building, where gunshots were still ringing out and they heard shouts of anger and pain. He dreaded to think what state he'd find Clarke in. Would she be covered in blood _again_? Would it break her this time?

" _Clarke!_ " he yelled desperately, barrelling down a flight of stairs and ducking out of the way when another hunter opened fire. He raised his gun, but Octavia had jumped over him and was sliding over the floor, her sword at the ready. Two slashes later, and Octavia was standing on her feet, the hunter lying dead on the ground. Bellamy didn't stay to awe at her. He had to find Clarke.

" _Take that you pieces of shit!_ "

He almost laughed when he heard her voice. She sounded as fierce as ever, and more importantly, _alive_. More shots rang out and then silence.

"Lincoln!" Octavia yelled, jumping over dead bodies towards her husband.

"Bellamy?" Clarke said, her blonde head appearing from behind a table. Relief flooded her when she lay eyes on him. "Oh, thank God." she whispered, jumping up and running up to him. "Are you okay?"

He grabbed her arms and let his eyes rake over her. "I'm fine." he said flippantly. "What about you? Are you hurt, did one of them get you?"

She shook her head frantically, her breath coming in fast bursts as she tried to quell her panic. "They were coming from every direction and Lincoln said to get behind cover and they shot at us and...and..." She gasped for breath, and Bellamy pulled her close. She was trembling, but he was quite sure it wasn't because of fear or blinding panic.

"It's okay, Clarke. You're okay." he said, stroking her hair.

"I know I am." she growled, his fists balling into his shirt. "But I want to _hurt_ the people who try to hurt me, or you, or anyone else in this compound. I want to _kill_ them, and the urge is so strong that it _freaks me out._ " She looked up with fire in her eyes that could easily be mistaken for anger. But Bellamy saw through that. There was anger there, sure, but behind that was a whole lot of fear. "Am I a bad person?"

"No, Clarke." he whispered. "You're human. Ain't nothing bad about that."

She gave him a weak smile, before gently pushing him off. "I'm glad you're okay, Bellamy. I was worried there for a second."

"Come on," he said with half a smile, "After all we've been through, do you honestly think I'm going to let some hunters take me down? Not likely."

Clarke laughed, slinging a casual arm around his waist and turning to Octavia and Lincoln, who had done their touchy-feelsy reunion and were now staring at them with a curious expression. Octavia's was excitement, mostly. Lincoln's was more calculating, more analysing. "What?" she asked. Cue to Octavia and Lincoln both shaking their heads vigorously.

Bellamy rolled his eyes but said nothing. He knew what Octavia was thinking. But it wasn't like that. He knew that. Octavia looked at him some more and then sighed. "Aw hell. We need to talk." she said to Lincoln with a roll of her eyes, pulling him away from them, and Bellamy knew instantly what she was going to do.

She was going to tell Lincoln she was going to take Clarke to the Fireflies.

And he was probably going to have to part ways with Clarke.

 **-BCTLOU-**

He knew was she'd run. After overhearing the conversation between Lincoln and Octavia, there was no way she wouldn't have run. But _God_ , he was so goddamned pissed with her! How could she just...run? Just get out into a world she barely understood with dangers beyond her control or strength, and just leave him behind like this?

He cursed as he sped his horse through the woods, almost outstripping O, who only kept up because she was slightly better at riding a horse than he was. "She'll be fine, Bell, she's a strong woman." O called at him as they quickly turned into a sideroad.

Bellamy just growled. He feared, if he opened his mouth, something very unfriendly would come out that would piss off both O and Clarke if she ever heard about it. He knew his temper could make him say terrible things, thing he didn't really mean but would just say because it would hurt people the most. That's how he'd lost O all those years ago.

"There's a ranch up there!" O called. "Maybe she went in there!" She pointed out towards the end of the road, where the trees stopped and the path was bathed in sunlight. He spurred on his horse even more. _For God's sake, Clarke, if you got yourself hurt..._ "That's our horse!"

Bellamy rode into the ranch's driveway up towards the big house. It looked to be in a fairly good state, and he wondered if it had been abandoned only recently. He jumped off and went straight for the door, ignoring Octavia's warnings to be careful. " _Clarke_?" he bellowed through the house as he ran around all the rooms left and right. "CLARKE!"

" _I'm up here!_ " her voice came from upstairs, and for a moment, Bellamy let himself breathe a little, resting against the stairs. O looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

"I'll stay down here, keep watch. I'm guessing you two have some talking to do." she said, taking out her blade and going over to a window. Bellamy nodded gratefully, and took the stairs two at a time.

He found her in one of the children's bedrooms, sitting in the window sill, holding a book open on her lap, looking far more lost than ever before. He sighed as he closed the door. She looked up at him, sighing. "Is this really all they had to worry about?" she asked, softly. "What shirt goes with what skirt and if that one boy likes them?"

It was a diary she was holding. Her face was masked with a mixture of longing and confusion, and Bellamy nearly forgot his anger at the sight of it.

He shrugged. He'd never been able to go through that stage. "I guess so. All I worried about before was my sister and if my toy truck didn't get thrown out with the trash."

She leaned her head back. "What a world it must've been. I don't understand it at all."

Bellamy shook his head, taking a seat across from her and trying to catch her eyes. "Clarke, what were you thinking?"

"I was thinking, 'fuck you'." she spat at him, her entire demeanour changing instantaneously, throwing the diary on the floor.

"Jesus, Clarke, do you even know what your life means? Running off like that, putting yourself at risk? That's pretty goddamn stupid!" he said, his voice raised before he could keep himself in check.

Clarke kicked him as she swung her legs off the sill and pushed herself away from him. "Well, I guess we're both disappointed with each other then." Her voice was ice cold, making shivers shoot down his back, and he closed his eyes.

"What do you want from me, Clarke?"

Outside, the world began to darken slightly, as the weather seemed to change with the mood between them. Thick drops of rain ticked on the windows, but neither of them was to be distracted.

"You wanted to get rid of me this whole time!"

"That is _not_ true!" he yelled, jumping up and closing the distance between them in two strides. "Octavia just knows this area better – "

Clarke exploded. " _Fuck that!_ Stop with the bullshit, Bellamy Blake! What are you so afraid of? That I'm gonna end up like Jasper? Well, I can't, if you remember! I can take care of myself!"

"How many close calls have we had, Clarke?!"

"Too _fucking_ many, but we're still here, aren't we?!"

"And now you'll be doing even better with O!" he screamed and then turned his back trying to regain his control.

Outside, thunder began to rumble.

He heard her sigh. "I'm not them, you know." she whispered. Bellamy turned slowly, fear and anger boiling inside of him. Surely not. Surely she would not be _this_ foolish, to bring up something so close to his open wounds. "O told me about your mother, and Raven. And I saw you with Fox. And I – "

Rage simmered inside him, as old, badly healed wounds in his heart began to tear, paired with dread and sorrow. " _Clarke_." he hissed. "You're treading on _very_ thin ice." He heard the cracks in his voice, but he didn't care. Being reminded so violently of the people he lost in his life...

"I'm sorry about your mom, and your girlfriends. I am. But I have lost people, too, Bell." He opened his mouth, but Clarke advanced on him, her blue eyes blazing with cold flames. "Everyone I have cared for, has either died, or left me. Everyone except fucking _you_!" she suddenly cried out, shoving him in the chest hard. "So don't tell me I would be safer with someone else, because the truth is that I would just be more scared!"

Bellamy stared at her, at the tears gathered in her eyes, and way her body seemed to fold in on itself after that last admission, and his heart broke a little more. She cared for him. She all but admitted it. And he was going to leave her. "I'm sorry, Clarke." he whispered.

She shook her head. "No. Don't apologize." Her voice was cold, rough, detached.

 _No, don't pull away from me, Clarke._ "Please, Clarke, you must understand. People around me die, people I care about die. That's what they do. And I can't do anything to stop it." He took a step towards her. "And fuck that bullshit about you being the cure for mankind, because that's not the reason I stuck with you this far. I care about you, Clarke. A lot. And it scares me, because honestly? I can't lose you, too." He felt a few tears roll down his cheek but did nothing to stop them. He just looked at Clarke, who was looking at him as if she'd never seen him before. "So that's why I want you to go with O. You _are_ safer with her, Clarke. At least with her, you've got a fighting chance. With me, you'll just die. And I can't stand that."

Clarke opened her mouth furiously, obviously intending to fight him, angry tears in her eyes. But then the door burst open, and the two of them jumped as O came in. "Hunters." she said. "We gotta move, Bell."

Bellamy took a deep breath, taking out his gun and watching Clarke pull out her bow and arrow. Here came another chance to get her killed.

Fucking great.

 **-BCTLOU-**

They camped in the powerplant again, Clarke tossing and turning on the bed next to his, and he knew she didn't sleep, and he knew that she knew he didn't sleep either, but they didn't say a word. His mind was racing, fighting a battle with his heart that he knew his mind would lose.

 _Go with her,_ his heart would say.

 _She's safer with O,_ his mind argued.

 _But you'd never know if she was actually safe. With you, you can protect her. And you can be with her. Like you want._

 _Don't be selfish,_ his mind snapped.

 _You've been selfless for a long time, Bell. Perhaps it's time to be selfish for once._

Bellamy groaned, rolling out of bed and slipping out of the room quietly. He knew she was awake, and had probably heard him leave, but he didn't care. He couldn't stand to be in that small room with her anymore. His entire body was buzzing with the impending decision he was going to have to make.

He stepped outside, nodding at the night guard standing watch and he went over to the horses, patting them absentmindedly. The night air was fresh and cool, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a sort of peace linger in the air. In this compound they were safe. Or safer than anywhere else. Octavia and Lincoln had a good business here, they would take them in without a second thought. They could stay in Jackson. Live out their days there together.

But then he remembered the mission, and what Clarke was. What she could mean for this world. And with that, he realized that they couldn't stay here. They had to go on, had to try and save humanity. It's what Clarke would want. Hell, she'd probably sacrifice her own life if it meant saving everybody else.

So that was that.

They had to leave. And there was no way in _hell_ would he leave her side.

"Bellamy?" her soft voice sounded behind him, and he turned on his feet, smiling softly at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Princess. Just thinking about stuff." He watched as the apprehension fade from her eyes and she approached slowly to stroke the horse's neck. "Do you want to pick which horse we're going to ride on out of here?"

She looked up, her blue eyes pale in the moonlight. Hope washed over her face and he felt all warm and fuzzy inside. _Weak, Blake. Very weak._ For once, he told his mind to kindly fuck off. "You're coming with me." It wasn't a question.

He smiled when he said, "Yes," and even more when she launched herself at him. Her tiny body fitted right into his arms and he sighed into the hug, burying his face in her neck. "I'm sorry about today, Princess." he muttered.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that. It was stupid." she murmured against his shoulder.

He laughed. "Then we're both sorry. You're forgiven."

"So are you."

He held her close for a long time, just staring out into the forest just outside the wall, her head propped under his chin, his hand stroking her shoulder absentmindedly. "Hey Bellamy?" she said as the moon slowly began to sink and the horizon became tinted with the softest of pink.

"Yeah?"

She was silent for a long time, and for a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep right on his chest, but she stirred and looked up. "Thank you." she whispered, kissing his cheek softly. She squeezed his hand. "I'm gonna try and get some sleep. You coming?"

He nodded, and let her lead him back to their room.

He slept easier then, her calm breathing lulling him to sleep in no time.

(And maybe it helped that she'd been lying against him, after shoving the two bunkbeds closer together and snuggling up against him because she was 'cold', or so she claimed. He didn't mind.)

 **-BCTLOU-**

It'd been hard saying goodbye to O again. She'd told him to take her with them, but they both knew she was needed in Jackson. She was safer in Jackson, and he needed her to stay there. Worrying about one girl he cared for deeply was more than enough, he didn't want to worry about two.

After saying goodbye for good (he hoped it would turn out to be different, but he didn't think he'd ever see his little sister again), he and Clarke rode off on the horse Clarke had initially taken for herself, and headed, on Octavia's instructions, towards Colorado, where they would find some Fireflies.

Clarke held him tightly all through their trip, occasionally napping against his back, and her warmth kept him warm as well. It was nice. The roads were clear and calm, and there weren't any Infected this far out. It was peaceful.

He told her about his childhood – what he could remember of it anyway – and she enjoys listening to him talk, asking him all kinds of questions. They have fun.

Of course, _fun_ doesn't belong in this world, so that all goes to shit _real_ fast as they find the hospital abandoned – and it had been for a very long time. Defeated, they search the place, trying to find _some_ clue as to where the Fireflies had gone to next.

"There's _nothing_ here." Clarke says, defeated, sinking down on one of the lab chairs, rubbing her face exhaustedly. "This is it, huh? The dead end we should've hit back in Boston?"

Bellamy shook his head, seating himself in another lab chair and rolling over to her so their knees were touching. He grabbed her hands. "Hey." he said, pulling her arms away from her face so he could look at her. "We'll find them. One way or the other, we'll find them."

She looked at him, her blue eyes without their usual glint. He could just feel her exhaustion. He was exhausted too. Tired of running after these folks. "We could just go back to Jackson. Go live there."

Bellamy smiled ruefully. "What an idea, huh?" he said. She nodded slowly, her eyes casting down. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I don't want to be the savior of mankind. I want to just live my life. I don't want to be some lab rat. I want to be free, Bell." She leaned her forehead against his. "And at the same time, I want to help my people. We all deserve to be free. What is my life, compared to thousands of others?"

Bellamy shook his head, unable to listen to her going on like this. "No, Clarke. Your life is just as precious as the lives of every other human being on this planet. You've been born with a gift, Clarke, a gift that could maybe mean the end of this infection. But you've also been born human, which means that you have the freedom to choose. You alone can make this decision, Clarke. If you choose to walk away from it all, I'll follow you. And if you choose to continue on the path you and I have both been thrown upon, I'll follow you, too. Till the end of the line." He took her face between his hands, stroking her cheeks softly. "But I cannot make that decision for you."

"But if you could, what would you say?"

"I'd say screw it. Another person will come along with the same gift as you and they will be able to safe mankind. I'd ask you not to do it."

"Why?" she whispered, her voice so soft he could barely hear her now.

"Because I can't lose you. And we don't know what they'll expect of you. Do they need blood? Or your entire brain? What would they need from you?"

Clarke closed her eyes, breathing softly. "I can't lose you, too, Bell. In the past few months, you've come to mean a lot to me."

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. For a long time, they sat together in the abandoned lab, holding onto each other, comforting each other. Bellamy knew the choice she was going to make even before she'd even said it. It hadn't really been a choice, not for her, he knew that. And he'd meant what he said, he would follow her till the end of the line.

"I have to do this, Bell." she said in the end, and he sighed.

"I know."

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Do you have the recorder?" Bellamy hissed at Clarke as they hid behind a desk, waiting for the hunters to come close enough to take on. She nodded, holding it up before stashing it into her pack. That recorder had been a real stroke of luck. It held the exact location of the Fireflies. Of course, their luck being as it is, this victory was short-lived, as they were suddenly surprised by a flood of hunters.

They'd managed to fight (kill) their way off the second floor and were now lying in wait to ambush those on the first floor. "Good." he said, raising his gun, pointing at the ground. He focused on the footsteps nearing, and when the first foot came into view, he fired. Screaming and yelling broke out, and in the confusion, he and Clarke ducked into another room, bypassing the hunters completely and silently taking out those in their way.

They would've made it.

Had he watched himself and his surroundings better.

He broke through the door, and was confronted with a massive hunter, who immediately went for his throat with a knife. Bellamy blocked it, and they struggled for a moment. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Clarke aim, but hesitate to fire. He was in her way too often to have a clear shot. They fell against the banister. Bellamy looked over his shoulder and saw the depth coming at him. If they were to fall here, they'd be lucky if they survived this. Pushing with all his might, he tried to push the hunter off of him.

Maybe if he hadn't pushed so hard...

Maybe.

The banister broke.

The two of them went over, Clarke screaming his name loudly as he felt gravity take hold of him. The sickening crunch beneath him told him the hunter hadn't been fortunate in his fall. He tried to position himself in the air, tried to keep his head from falling to the floor first.

He hit the floor.

Pain exploded all over his body, originating from his abdomen, and he closed his eyes as he gritted his teeth against it. For a moment, it seemed it was just the fall that hurt him. But then he opened his eyes, and saw a large spike sticking up out of his stomach. "Aw great." he muttered.

" _Bellamy_!" Clarke screamed, and he watched her climb down the wall. "Oh my God." She fell to her knees next to him, her hands fluttering around the spike, not sure what to do. "Oh Jesus."

"Clarke..." he muttered, grappling for his gun.

"What?"

" _Get out of the way_!" he spat out, and the door behind her burst open. His gun fired two shots at them before they knew what was coming at them. The last of his strength left him and he let his arm fall. "Fuck."

"What do I do?" she whispered. "Come on, Bell, you gotta tell me what to do here."

"Pull."

She grabbed his arm, her grip firm, even though she was trembling slightly. "Okay. Here we go." She pulled and the pain was excruciating. He couldn't stop the scream that tore out of his throat, and he sagged against her the moment the spike was out. He felt the blood pour out of him, and he knew that he didn't have much time left.

"We gotta go." he groaned.

"I know, I know. I'll help you, come on."

Struggling to hold onto his life, he let Clarke support him to the exit. His vision was already blurring at the edges, and the pain was numbing just about everything but the path before him and her arm around his waist. "Clarke. Clarke, you have to go."

"Oh, now you want me to leave you behind? Nope, sorry, can't do it. I'm taking you with me and you are going to live, okay? Because you promised."

Bellamy closed his eyes shortly to block out both the pain in the tears. "God, Clarke..."

"Shut up, just shut up, Bell!" She hauled him out of the hospital. He vaguely registered that there was someone by their horse, but he didn't have the strength to think about that. Two shots rang out, Clarke cursing loudly, and then he was hoisted upon the horse, Clarke getting on behind him, taking the reins and spurring on the horse.

The next thing he knew was falling off the horse.

"No. No, no, Bellamy!" Warm hands cupped his face, and he tried to open his eyes. Something was holding them down, they were too heavy to open. So he tried to speak. His vocal chords seemed to be ripped out. When he moved, his entire body screamed in aguish. "Bellamy!" she yelled somewhere above him. "Please, don't leave me. Please, please, don't leave me, too." She was sobbing now; heartbreaking sobs tore through her body so hard he could almost feel it, and he just wanted to take her hands and reassure her that he would be fine.

 _"_ _Please, Bellamy. I love you."_

* * *

 _ **Reviews feed my muse, and she's a hungry lass. If you could take a moment, it would make my day!**_


	3. Winter

_**A/N:** First of all, I'm sorry for the wait. I know it's been a while, but I was struggling with how to change the story to fit these two. But here it is, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think!_

 ** _Summary:_** Winter _ _._ Join our two heroes as they struggle through a bad winter, in the aftermath of Bellamy's tumble off the balcony, and meet some new..._ friends _._

* * *

At this point, Clarke was getting pretty desperate. She hadn't had food for days, and the cold was only getting colder. Figures it was just her luck that the coldest winter in her lifetime was this year. As if she didn't have enough the worry about without the cold freezing her bones in her sleep.

At least it wasn't snowing now. She could actually see where she was going, and more importantly, the tracks she was following stayed clear. This was a large animal, judging by the deep imprints its tracks made in the snow, so this could mean food for a couple of days.

Trudging lightly through the snow, she evaded as much fallen twigs and leaves as possible, so as not to scare the animal off. God knows where it'd go then.

When she came into a small clearing, she saw it. A beautiful stag, nudging its nose into the snow contently. It hurt, aiming her bow, and firing an arrow at the beautiful animal, but right now it was it or her. And she wasn't planning on dying from starvation. A high-pitched whine echoed through the clearing as the arrow hit home, and the stag took off, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Cursing, Clarke made out to follow. The pools of blood increased in both frequency and quantity, and Clarke's heart ached for it. "Why couldn't you just die the first time?" she muttered, jumping a fence and sneaking on. She hated the thought of it being in pain. She approached a steep slope, and down there, she saw an abandoned barn, half decayed. She dropped down towards it, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. This place didn't feel right to her, and the only thing that kept her going forward was the thought of food.

It was lying on the other side of the barn, bled out, dead. Clarke straightened up, looking at the stag in wonder. Dread crept up to her and she bit her lip. How in the world was she going to get this thing back to town? It must weigh like a ton.

Behind her, a twig snapped and she raised her bow, aiming true. "Who's there?" she called, listening intently.

A black-haired man stepped from behind a tree, his hands raised. "It's okay. I won't hurt you."

"Excuse me if I don't take your word for it. The guy behind the tree, tell him to put his gun down and step out with his hands where I can see them." At the black-haired guy's nod, a second, blond guy stepped out, his hands in the air, looking murderous. "What do you want?"

"I'm Cage. Cage Wallace. This is my friend Emerson. We mean you no harm."

Clarke snorted. "Yeah right. That's why you're out here, in the middle of fucking nowhere. Put 'em down on the ground." She gestured with her bow to their rifles.

Emerson looked startled and outraged when Cage immediately put his rifle down and gestured for him to do the same. "Cage, I..."

"Do it, Emerson. Show her we don't want to hurt her."

Clarke kept her eyes on Emerson as he yanked his rifle off and threw it on the ground with a sneer. Cage smiled. "Forgive him. He likes his rifle a little too much sometimes. But in these days, you know..."

"What. Do you. Want?" Clarke bit at him.

"That deer looks like it could feed a lot of mouths. We are with many. Women, children. All very hungry."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Cage Wallace. His eyes had something unnerving in them, a kind of strange look that made her stand on edge. "Yeah, me too. Women. Children. All very hungry too."

"We could trade you." Cage said, taking a step closer. "Is there anything you want? Shelter, water..."

"Antibiotics." Clarke said, her mind racing. If they had what she needed.

Cage cracked another kind smile. "We have that back at our camp, why don't we all go and get it?"

Clarke laughed, taking a step back from him, tightening the grip on her bow. "No way. Tell that one to go get some. The deer's yours when he comes back and I'm satisfied."

He looked at her pensively, seemed to be sizing her up before nodding. Emerson, obviously unable to hold himself back, burst. "Cage, you can't!"

"Go get the medicine, Emerson."

"The others won't like this!" Emerson said, and with another filthy look at Clarke, he disappeared.

Cage smiled at her. "So. Now we wait, huh?"

"Yeah." Her eyes shot down to the two rifles on the ground. "Kick those towards me. Do it. Or I'm outta here, with my deer."

He nodded. "Okay, don't fret. I promise I won't hurt you."

"Well, I don't exactly know you, so I'm sorry if I don't take your word on that." Clarke, still keeping her eyes on him, quickly put her bow back on her pack and picked up the rifles, slinging one over her shoulder, and the other she pointed back at him.

Cage, to his credit, did not become angry. "I get it. We're all on edge out here. This world is not exactly a good place for trusting people right now. But, since it's freezing, how about we at least head inside the cabin." He jerked his head at the abandoned cabin she'd gone through to get to the carcass. "We don't have to be cold, you know."

Suspiciously, she nodded, following him inside, the rifle still armed and ready. No matter how kind this guy was acting, she didn't trust him. This was purely because she really was cold and had no wish to freeze to death out here. "So," Cage Wallace said, leaning against the door he'd just closed behind them (it was unsettling, that was her way out). "I've told you my name. How about you return the favour?"

Clarke shook her head, taking a seat on the floor on the other end of the small cabin. "Not in a million years."

A shadow passed over his face, but he smiled as if it didn't happen, and Clarke gripped the gun tighter to her chest. "Fine. You don't have to tell me. But until my friend comes back, we're stuck with each other."

"We can spend that time in perfect silence for all I – " A piercing groan, followed by a long-stretched shriek cut straight across her sentence, making her heart drop. Infected.

Cage jumped to his feet and ran to the windows. "Shit." He turned and tossed her a mag for one of the shotguns. "I hope you're as good with that thing as you say you are!"

Clarke didn't respond, as she was a bit distracted by the five infected coming at the shed at breakneck speed. She aimed, her arms steady from an entire winter using the bow and fired. Her aim was true, and the first Infected was halted in its tracks when its head exploded. She reloaded, and shot again.

She didn't know how many shots she fired in the next half hour. More than she ever thought she would fire in her entire life. When the Infected had kept coming, they decided to make a run for it, eventually accidentally trapping themselves in a shelter that had long since been abandoned. Clarke found some useful supplies here, among which a nail bomb and a few Molotov Cocktails. Another man's pain is another woman's gain, but she did whisper a soft apology to the skeleton that was sitting against the wall as if sleeping. At least the Infection didn't get him.

The shelter suddenly trembled, and Clarke's blood ran cold. Another tremor shook all the windows, and even the remaining Infected shut up for a second. A roar, and then something large and heavy dropped through the roof, making Cage yell in fright and Clarke duck behind a crate. "What the hell is that?!" Cage yelled.

"Fucking Bloater!" Clarke screeched, immediately scrambling for her Molotov Cocktails. She'd seen Bellamy use them on one quite successfully, so she figured she'd not waste bullets on this thing. She lit one and pelted it at the Bloater, which screamed and roared in pain and confusion when he promptly burst into flames. She threw another one as Cage wasted time and bullets by screaming and firing at will. His little handgun, however, wasn't going to do much good. After two more Cocktails, the Bloater finally seemed to have had enough, and it collapsed in a heap of smoking ashes.

"Nice one, kid." Cage said, wiping his face and offering her a kind smile – or one bordering kind. Clarke was beginning to think Cage had lost all true kindness somewhere along the road, that is, if he ever had it.

Clarke just shot him a dark look, and made her way back down the walkway, stepping over the bodies of Infected.

"Hey kid, come over here. Listen." Cage was standing by the window, looking out into the snowy forest. Clarke stood beside him, listening.

"It's quiet." she said, surprised. "No Infected."

"No Infected." Cage said with a smile. "Let's go, kid."

"Don't call me 'kid'." Clarke snapped, and she stalked off without another word.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"You know, I believe everything happens for a reason. Do you?"

"No."

"Well, I can prove you wrong. You see, just a few weeks ago. A group of twenty of my men went out to Boston to find some supplies. Ten days later, only five came back. They were badly injured, gunshot wounds, cuts, bruises; they looked like they'd been through hell and back. Now, they told me this crazy story." Cage poked the fire, but his face was cold. "They said they'd been surprised by this crazy, good-looking guy with mad skills. And this tiny, blonde spitfire who looks innocent but is more deadly than any other regular guy." Now he looked up, and Clarke's blood ran cold. His eyes were full of ice, murderous rage, and in a second, she was pointing the rifle at him.

"Get away from me." she hissed.

"I won't hurt you." His smile, however, said otherwise.

"Yeah right." She was backing up now. "Stay away."

"Lower the gun, pretty."

Clarke swirled around, and the other guy – Emerson – had his gun pointed at her head. "Drop it yourself!"

"Emerson!" Cage said sharply. "Lower the gun."

"Cage, what the - ?"

"I said, lower the gun." Emerson shot Cage a look of deep disgust, but lowered the gun anyway. Suspicious of Cage's motives, Clarke watched both men closely. "Now, give her the medicine and come over here."

Snarling, Emerson threw the antibiotics on the floor at her feet. "I will make you pay for this, you little bitch." he hissed as he passed her to join Cage. Clarke ignored him, snatching the medicine from the floor and keeping the gun pointed at them at the same time.

"Keep the deer." she said. She slammed the door to the shed shut and took off, running as fast as she could to put as much distance between this shed and herself as she could. Her heart was racing by the time she reached the horse that brought her here. "Let's get out of here, Gus."

She spurred him on and rode away from the forest.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Bellamy?" Clarke let her pack drop beside the mattress. "Bellamy, I'm here." She started rummaging through her pack. "I got a rabbit. I know, it's not much," she said, in reply to his non-committal grunt, as if he'd actually heard her, "but look what else I got." She showed him the antibiotics, but his eyelids just fluttered, his eyes moving rapidly behind their lids. He was delirious. Forgoing small-talk, Clarke prepared the syringe swiftly, and then rolled up his shirt. He moaned. "I know, I know." she whispered, placing a hand on his head.

The wound looked horrifying.

She'd sown it shut, but it wasn't good. She didn't have good needles or thread and she'd had to make do with a paper thin piece of cloth and a needle from the sewing kit upstairs.

And now the wound was festering, angry red lines running along his skin, and it looked like it hurt. "It's gonna be okay, Bell. I got you."

He hissed when the needle pushed into him, but then relaxed slightly, as if the pain was already less (she knew that was bullshit) (she still hoped). "Clarke..." he murmured, barely audible.

"Shhh." she whispered, taking the hand that was lying across his chest. He gripped just a tiny bit tighter. "I won't let anything happen to you, Bell. I promise."

She would've sworn he smiled a little before he drifted off into a fever-riddled sleep.

 **-BCTLOU-**

She didn't know how they'd followed her. She must've been careless with erasing her tracks.

(She'd been too eager to get back to Bellamy.)

So, to protect Bellamy, she had to slip away, draw their attention, their fire.

Loathe as she was to leave him, she didn't have a choice.

She grabbed her bag quickly, and knelt next to Bellamy for a moment. He was still unconscious. "I'll be back for you. I promise." She kissed his forehead and then left, making sure to lock the basement and slide the key underneath the door so he could get out if he had to.

Then she ran.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Son of a bitch!" she yelled, more out of shock and grief than actual anger. Gus was lying on his side, his eyes wide and unblinking, staring emptily into space. He was gone. The fuckers had actually killed the horse.

She didn't have time to grief. Bullets were riveting around her, striking the ground way too close for comfort, and she had to run.

So she did, avoiding the bullets by zigzagging her way through the trees. Shouts were rising up behind her, and she may be fast, but her legs were much shorter than theirs (damn her genes) and she was getting tired. They, however, sounded far from even winded. She didn't know how to get out of this one, except to just run and hope she'd come across something that would help her.

She screamed when something struck her legs with force and she fell over, face-first into the cold snow. She rolled over quickly, to find Cage standing over her, wearing a less-than-charming smirk. "Don't run, little girl. You have nowhere to go."

Clarke felt she had to disagree with that particular statement, and she rolled back onto her knees, pushing up and running away from him. Cage, with his long legs and impressive statute (she had eyes, and they also worked on creepy men), caught up with her no trouble, and grabbed hold of her. "Let me go!" she cried.

"I'm trying to save you!" Cage hissed in her ear, but she didn't believe one word of what he was saying. Something slapped in front of her nose and mouth, something sweet hit her nostrils, and after a good minute of struggling and feeling fainter, and fainter, she lost all ability to fight and she slowly slipped into heavy unconsciousness.

 **-BCTLOU-**

She was in a cage.

Literally.

With bars and everything.

It would be funny if what was happening outside the cage wasn't so goddamn revolting.

There was a human body on a slab, except it wasn't so human anymore. Its arms and legs were cut off, lying on the table beside the rest of the cadaver. A man was standing over it, holding a butcher's knife and cutting into the cadaver.

He looked up at her when she took a sharp intake of breath, and smirked, before leaving. Clarke crawled towards the door, pulling herself up and checking the lock. She yanked at the bars of her cell, knowing perfectly well it was not good but refusing to give up and lie there until they cut her up. So this is why this guy had given her the creeps. He was a creep, a freak, and she was in grave danger around him.

"Now, don't exert yourself, little girl."

Clarke took two steps back, out of his reach, and she eyed him suspiciously. "Don't call me that." she hissed, then bit her tongue. Real mature, Clarke, she thought. "What do you want?" she continued.

"I thought you would be hungry." Cage held out a tray, pushing it underneath the bars into her cell. It was with meat, and Clarke staggered back another step. Cage chuckled, low and menacing. "It's deer. Your deer. I promise."

"Yeah, like your promise means anything." Clarke snapped, but her stomach was rumbling. She hadn't eaten for days. "Fucking animal." she said, but she gave in, and began eating like a woman starved. Cage chuckled again, crouching down in front of her.

"Now isn't that hypocritical?" he said, tilting his head to watch her eat. "Considering you and your boyfriend killed...how many men?"

Clarke didn't look up. "Well, they shouldn't have attacked us." she said with a snarl.

"Ahhh, you think you're better than us, do you?" Cage shook his head, and if Clarke had looked up then she would've seen the malicious glint in his eyes. "You kill to survive, and so do we. We're not much different."

"At least I don't eat the people I kill after the fact." Clarke snapped. She was not going to let this guy talk her into a guilt complex. She regretted all the people she'd killed, and she would bear those deaths on her conscious for the rest of her life, but this guy wasn't going to convince her she was as bad as he was.

"We have to take care of our own. With any means necessary."

Clarke stopped eating and sat up, facing Cage head on. "So now what? You're gonna kill me, too? Chop me up into tiny pieces?"

Cage looked at the ground with a small smile. "I'd rather not." Clarke snorted. "Please, tell me your name."

Clarke raised her brows. "There is no way in hell." She threw the tray back at him, and he jumped back to avoid the orange juice that splashed his way. "You're so full off shit." She rose to her feet, taking a stand.

"On the contrary. I've been quite honest with you." Cage rose, too. When he was standing up, he was about two heads taller than her, and he was intimidating. "Now it's your turn. Because it'll be the only way I'm going to be able to convince the others."

"Of what?"

"That you can come around." He moved closer to the bars, wrapping his fingers around two of them. "You have heart, little girl. You're loyal, and special." He placed one of his hands on hers, and it all dawned on Clarke.

She almost became sick.

In a flash of presence of mind, she didn't pull her hand back. "Oh." she just said. She took a step closer, trying to keep the bile back, and placed her other hand on his wrist. He blinked, for a moment confused, but then she pulled hard, slamming his wrist down on the bars. A sickening crack, and a piercing scream, and she grabbed hold of the keys on his belt.

He was faster, his broken wrist not stopping him from yanking her against the bars, slamming her head against the hard iron. Her ears rang as she dropped to the floor, the world tilting on its axis. Groaning, she pushed herself up. "Fuck you." she spat.

"Stupid little girl!" Cage said, clutching his wrist. "I am trying to keep you alive, and you are making it extremely difficult!" Clarke just threw him her most loathing look she could muster. "What am I supposed to tell the other now, huh?"

Clarke wiped her bloody lip on her hand and looked up. "Clarke." she said. He whirled on her, glaring daggers at her. She rose up, tilting her chin up defiantly. "Tell them Clarke is the 'little girl' who broke your fucking wrist."

The air around her suddenly seemed to grow cold, and a menacing smile spread on his face. "How did you put it?" he said, his voice low and sharp. "'Tiny pieces'?"

Clarke's blood ran cold.

Cage left her in the cage, chuckling in a way that made Clarke fear for her life.

How was she ever going to get out of this?

 **-BCTLOU-**

It was a strange sensation, waking up and not feeling like burying himself beneath the blankets and kicking them off at the same time. There was a certain warmth spreading through his body, a warmth he hadn't felt in a while. His abdomen still ached horribly when he groaned and sat up. His head swam for a moment, and he held his eyes closed for just a minute longer. Then he opened them.

He was in what was obviously a basement. And it was fucking cold.

"Clarke?" he called out, but only ringing silence met him.

He forced himself to sit up. A twinge in his side made him pause for a moment, but the pain was far less than he could remember from before he passed out. He remembered the sting of a needle, and wondered how Clarke had gotten hold of antibiotics.

His stomach growled.

With a great deal of effort, Bellamy rolled himself on his knees and struggled his way onto his feet. He had to find Clarke, now. She had to be around here somewhere. He picked up his pack, which was placed carefully at the foot of his mattress.

He struggled up the stairs, finding that it was locked. Growling, he stepped back to kick it open. His eye fell on a key on the floor. Clarke hadn't left him locked up. Smart girl.

He moved around the house, scoping it out, but there was no sign of the blonde anywhere.

He was starting to get worried now; his gut told him something had happened to her. Something bad.

She had left some of her arrows behind, which worried him even more. She was skilled with a gun, but excellent with a bow and arrow. He only hoped she carried enough to make a stand.

Voices carried in through the broken window, and Bellamy ducked out of sight to listen in.

" _So did they get the girl?_ "

" _Yeah, Cage said he was going to try and talk to her. Initiate her. If you ask me, the guy just wants to get into her pants. Feisty little thing she is._ " Bellamy's blood boiled. They were talking about Clarke. She'd been taken.

A snort. " _As if she'll ever see our way. You can't see it unless you've lived it most of your life. We should just do away with her._ "

" _Oh, we probably will. But not before Cage has had a little fun with her. Who knows, maybe we'll even get a turn before she goes._ "

Bellamy had heard enough. He sped to the door as fast as his weak legs could carry him, and snuck out the door, diving behind a bush and sneaking up behind the two brutes. Two quick swipes with his knife, and the two were dead on the ground.

Shouting arose behind him, and he whirled around, his gun in his hand. Five thugs were running away fast, shouting at each other to flee for their lives.

Good, they were scared.

Bellamy steeled himself against the pain and headed off. He was going to get those fuckers and figure out where Clarke was. If it killed him.

 **-BCTLOU-**

It was sickening, the crunch of bones and the desperate screams of a man in pain. Bellamy hated inflicting pain. Partly because he didn't like hurting people, but mostly because he didn't like being reminded of the person he'd had to become in this world.

But he was determined to find Clarke. Whatever it took.

He took out the guy's map, jammed a marker in his mouth and slapped his face so that his attention was fully on Bellamy. The man's whimpers were immensely pathetic. "Shut up and listen to me. You're going to point at the map where the girl is, and it better match the location your buddy points to, otherwise, this is going to get really nasty."

The man nodded, whimpering pathetically as he crossed out an area on the map. "I swear!" he said, dropping the marker, looking scared out of his mind. "She's there, I swear, he'll confirm it!"

"I'm sure he will." Bellamy snarled, before yanking his knife out of the man's knee and slitting his throat. The other guy, sitting tied to the radiator, screamed as the chair tipped over.

"He was telling the truth, I swear it, she's there, she's in Mt. Weather!"

"Oh, I'm quite sure." Bellamy growled. His entire body was buzzing with hatred and the adrenaline of a kill, and he picked up a stray pipe.

"Then you don't have to kill me!" The man sounded almost relieved.

Bellamy gripped the pipe tight, remembering how the man had talked about Clarke. 'Maybe we'll even get a turn.' "Yes, I do."

The man had time to scream once before he went quiet.

 **-BCTLOU-**

"Wakey, wakey!"

Clarke was roughly pulled from her sleep, as hands grabbed her and yanked her from the floor. She yelled out in fright, her vision swimming as she was slammed down on the slaughter table by two pairs of strong hands. She struggled hard, and when someone (she recognized him as Cage) grabbed her shoulder, she turned her head and bit him hard.

"You little bitch!" Cage snarled, picking up the butcher knife and raising it above his head.

Clarke's mind was racing, adrenaline and fear coursing through her body. She had to find a way out, a way to survive. A way back to Bellamy. "Wait!" she screamed. "Wait! I'm infected!"

The two – besides Cage was Emerson, she now saw – stopped and stared at each other. "You're lying." Cage said, but he didn't sound so sure. His voice was unstable, and Clarke knew she had one chance to do this.

Clarke rolled her eyes, pretending she wasn't almost frozen with fear. "Why does everybody always think that...? I'm infected, just look at my arm!" Her breath came in short bursts from the struggle, but despite that, her head was clear. As soon as Cage threw the knife down beside her head, she knew what she had to do.

Cage jerked up her sleeve, and both he and Emerson cursed loudly, stepping back with shock. Her hands were free now. "How...?" Cage said, but Clarke interrupted him with a shaky laugh.

"And now you're infected, too." Gathering up the last of her courage, Clarke grabbed the knife and buried it in Emerson's chest. In the chaos, Cage didn't know what was happening, and before he had hold of the gun, Clark was already across the room and out the door. She took cover behind the wall when Cage shot at her. She looked around frantically, getting her bearings. On one of the shelves beside her was a small knife, too small to be really a match to guns but small enough so she could do at least a little damage should the need arrive, so she took it. One deep breath, and she was out the open window in front of her, into the blizzard raging outside.

 **-BCTLOU-**

She wasn't sure if she'd ever been this cold. The winter had been pretty brutal thus far, but the blizzard she now found herself in was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Her fur-lined coat wasn't enough by far to keep her warm.

Shivering, Clarke made her way through the town, seeing not more than a few feet ahead of her, and already hearing Cage's people shouting and running about somewhere in the snow, and her heartbeat picked up instantly. She knew if she was caught, she'd be instantly killed.

She had to be smart about this.

She needed a gun.

This little knife was a little reassuring but nothing more than that. She could cut someone. But she needed a little more firepower if she was getting out of this.

Clarke ducked into a deserted alley, trying every door she came to, finding all of them locked. When she hit a dead end, she cursed and turned to go back. In the wall beside her, there was another door she'd missed. Holding her breath, she tried it.

It was unlocked.

Breathing a relieved sigh, she went inside. It wasn't much warmer inside, but at least the wind couldn't get her here and she could see again. She searched the place frantically, finding only some medicine behind a fallen cabinet, and then moved to the front of the house. It turned out to be an abandoned shop, littered with rotten wood and crumbled shelves. One part of the wall was completely collapsed.

Outside, people were running around, shouting at each other.

She couldn't stay here.

She snuck out, into the building beside her. There was only one guy there, and she couldn't hear anyone else, so she went around the counter, grabbed her knife and jumped on his back. He didn't have time to yell out in alarm before he knife sank into his neck and he dropped to the ground.

She searched him frantically, already hearing more guys approaching. To her utter relief, she found this guy had a gun on him. She checked the ammo, and stashed it in the inner pocket of her coat. Before she could decide where to go, two more guys entered the shop. Clarke ducked behind the counter again, and quickly planned how to do this. She had to be smart, had to get them alone so that she could off them one at a time.

Her body was alive with adrenaline, and her thoughts were only of getting out of this mess.

If the adrenaline hadn't driven her, she may have spared thoughts of who she had become in the past year, that she so easily thought of 'offing' a guy.

Clarke sneaked behind a shelf and moved around, waiting for the opportune moment.

It came just seconds later. One guy moved to the left of the store, while the other guy moved to the right. By continually taking cover behind the shelves, she managed to sneak towards the second guy, who had his back turned to her and was conveniently just moving behind a large cabinet, blocking him from view of his pall. One slice of her knife later, and she had an extra bullet and only one guy left to kill.

She pressed her back flat against the cabinet and chanced a glance around the corner, to see where he was at. He was facing her, and she knew he'd spotted her, his eyes widening in surprise. Clarke, fear and adrenaline driving her reflexes, pulled out her gun and fired. The man went down like a rag doll, and without a sound.

He was carrying a molotov cocktail, and three clips of ammo. Clarke's spirits lifted, and she stuffed everything into her jacket pocket. Outside it was quiet, aside from the raging storm, and so she took the chance and ran for it, across the street, towards the next alley.

So she moved across town, taking down as many guys as she encountered.

(She had no idea how she survived, because there were definitely more guys than she had bullets, and none of them carried guns, the idiots.)

After losing a guy in the storm that had been chasing her for three fucking streets, she ran into another dead end. Scared shitless, she turned around to watch her assailant approach, but instead, she saw a dumpster, and a collapsed wall through which she might be able to climb. Panting, shivering with the cold, she jumped up the dumpster and crawled through the hole in the wall.

It was warm when she landed.

She looked up to find herself in a kitchen. Little fires and gas lamps were lit all over the place, exuding a warm and cozy feel around the place. Of course, if they were lit, it meant that there were people here – or had been very recently, in any case. That put quite the damper on Clarke's feeling of warmth, and she knew she had to get out as quickly as possible before those people came back.

She made her way across the kitchen and into the dining area quickly, making sure to listen for any suspicious noises or strange movements, her hands clamped tightly over her gun. She got through safe, and knew that out the door could very well be safety. So she opened it.

Had she been a little more careful about it, she might have prevented what happened next.

She was violently grabbed by her wrists, pushed back inside and against a table. She struggled hard, but the hold was strong, and her strength was running out. He wrestled the gun away from her. "You're easy to track, little girl." Cage said menacingly as he threw her off him to the ground. Behind him, a gas lamp fell over into some old, moldy curtain, which instantly started to smoke. Cage pointed her own gun at her, none the wiser. Clarke scrambled back. "How did you do it, huh?"

Before she could ask what he meant, the curtains caught fire truly, distracting him for a moment. It was enough for Clarke to jump to her feet and duck behind the first booth she came to. Cage just laughed. "That's alright." There was a definite sound of a door locking, filling Clarke with dread. Shit. "There's no way out."

 _Come on, Clarke, be smart about this,_ she thought.

But another voice, much lower than her own, cut through. No, Princess. Be brutal about this. Bellamy.

Great, so she was losing her mind now, was she? Clarke shook her head, but knew that the voice was right. There was no way to think herself out of this. She had to fight her way out of this.

Fine. Fine, Cage Wallace. If you want it ugly, you can get it ugly.

She listened hard for his footfalls, crouching low behind the booths, moving away from him ever so slowly. She knew that, as small as she was compared to him, she had the advantage when his back was turned to her. He might've taken her gun, but she still had her knife. And she'd already proven how lethal she was with that thing. "I know you're not infected!"

Clarke listened to him round the corner of the first row of booths, and she followed behind him, aching to get close. Her hand was clammy around the hilt, but her grip was firm.

"No Infected fights this hard to stay alive!"

Fuck you. Clarke thought, and that's when she was right behind him. She jumped on his back and sank her knife deep into his chest.

Or she would've done, had Cage not been fighting her. Instead it sank deep into his shoulder. He threw her off, and she let him, knowing she had to get away now before he got his wits about him once again. Keeping hold of the knife, she let herself fall and then quickly ducked behind the booths again as he fired the final few shots in her gun. "Alright, that was good, I admit." The gun clattered to the ground, and as Clarke peeked around the corner, she saw him getting out a machete from its sheath. Behind her, the door, wall and part of the ceiling were burning, the room filling with smoke. The only reason they weren't suffocating right now was because of the massive hole in the roof above them. Her only blessing in the situation. Cage was still alive, still deadly, still freaking her out.

She had to get close again. The problem was, would he fall for it again?

"You know, you keep surprising me!"

He would. She was on him again. "That's because you keep fucking underestimating me!" she yelled as she sank her knife into him yet again.

"Alright, little girl!" he yelled, as she fell and scrambled away again. "Playtime's over!"

He was smart this time. He stayed down, too, behind the booths.

Clarke listened intently, and every time he moved, she moved the other way.

She had one chance now. He was right in front of her, and he didn't see her. She took a deep breath.

 _Bellamy, I love you_.

Then she charged at him.

The last thing she remembered was Cage yanking her off his back by her hair before she blacked out.

 **-BCTLOU-**

It took him less than an hour to get to the town that was crossed off on the map.

It was deserted, or so it appeared, and the blizzard made it that much harder to see if there were actually any people around. His gut told him to stay on guard. The air smelled like fire and ice, and it was the most disconcerting smell. Something was burning.

In the garage to his left he found some ammo, and encountered some thugs which he disposed of quickly. He had no time or patience to knock anyone out instead of killing them. They stood between him and Clarke, so they had to go.

His gunshots had set off everyone else in a mile radius, and he heard frightened yells. "Is it the girl?" "Don't let her bite you! She's deadly!"

 _Clever Princess,_ Bellamy thought with a smirk, _making them believe you're infectious._

He cut straight across town, paying no heed to stealth or caution, shooting anything that moved.

"There he is!" Bellamy jerked around, spotting about five guys running towards him with axes and bats. The odds were stacked against him now, so he had to move. He put his shotgun away and ran for it, and ducked into the nearest alley. The five guys ran straight past him, the blizzard preventing them to see much more than their own feet. Bellamy moved further down the alley, and found an open door into a building. Seeing no other alternative, he entered the building.

He came into a little storage room, which was dark and cold, and he clicked on his flashlight for a better view. Right in front of him, on a shelf, sat Clarke's backpack. Blood pounded in his ears as he took it up and swung it over his shoulder. Oh, if anything had happened to Clarke, all of these people, no matter how many, would die.

With the weight of Clarke's backpack on his back, he continued through the building, his shotgun at the ready for any surprise visitors. He exited the storage room into an even colder room, and Bellamy had to blink three times to believe what he was seeing.

It was like those cooling cells in slaughter houses, where they kept the slaughtered animals strung up to drain them of all their blood before they cut them up into edible portions.

Except there were no animals strung up here.

They were people. Actual humans. Strung up, like animals, and drained from all of their blood. Bellamy felt the need to become violently sick, but he swallowed it down and pressed on.

Somehow, everything felt colder after that.

He knew what was really going on now, and in how much danger Clarke was in. These were cannibals. He'd heard the stories, of groups of people becoming so desperate. But he'd never thought of them as more than that; stories. But it was very real, and he and Clarke were smack dab in the middle of a pack of these sick lunatics.

"I'm coming for you, Clarke. Hang in there."

He burst through the butcher's shop, back into the blizzard, and what he saw made his heart stop. There was the source of the fire. An old diner, set ablaze from the inside, and it was spreading fast. As he looked at it for a moment, he realized one very important thing.

Clarke had to be in there.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Pain was what brought her back to reality.

Also, the smoke she inhaled might have something to do with it. She coughed violently, and turned over and away from the fire. Her body was tired, and weak from fighting. And judging by the groaning and shuffling beside her, Cage still wasn't dead. How many hits could this guy take?

Her knife was gone. She had nothing to defend herself with. Surely, fate wouldn't be so cruel as to end it like this? After everything? To be killed by a fucking cannibal and turned into his next meal?

That thought was so revolting, that a little bit of her strength found its way into her arms. She pushed herself up and looked around. Cage's machete was lying just ahead of her and that was her final hope. If she couldn't reach that, she would be dead.

So she crawled, clutching her side in pain. She didn't make much headway, her entire body aching, her side burning with a wound she hadn't realized was there. Adrenaline really did numb pain. Maybe that wound was already killing her. She wouldn't know. And honestly, she didn't care. She was not giving up.

Bellamy wouldn't.

Out of nowhere came Cage, with a sharp kick to her abdomen. She keeled over, screaming in pain and gasping for breath. Cage laughed. "You are strong, Clarke. I knew you were. But it's okay to give up." Clarke ignored him and got onto her hands and knees again, continuing her crawl towards the machete. Cage snorted. "I guess not. Just not who you are, is it, Clarke?" Another kick sent her sprawling again, and this time, she knew he wasn't going to let her get back up. She glanced at the machete, which was just out of reach. Cage grabbed her hair roughly, straddling her from behind. The pain was horrifying, but the fear that he would do worse things to her than kill her, slowly seeped into her brain. She began to struggle again. "I really thought we had something for a moment, Clarke. I mean, you're a spirited, beautiful girl. Who could look at you and not want you, huh?" He turned her over with force, his hands closing around her throat. "You've been much more trouble than you're worth, Clarke. Maybe it's time you gave something back."

Clarke's heart stopped as one of Cage's hand suddenly went down to her pants, fumbling roughly with the button. "NO!" she screamed, but he didn't let go. She was short on air, her brain fogging up with the lack of much needed oxygen. Her hand reached back, to where she knew the fucking machete was. She stretched herself out entirely, and suddenly felt the hilt brush against her fingertips.

One chance.

She grabbed it, and swung it upwards.

Cage screamed as the sharp blade hit the hand he was holding her down with. He rolled away out of instinct and Clarke wasted no time. White-hot with rage and fear, she jumped him and began hacking away at him. She didn't even realize she was doing it, and that blood splattered all around.

He just had to be dead. He had to be. She wouldn't let him touch her again.

She didn't register anything else but that thought, that singular thought. Dead, dead, dead.

When two hands grabbed her and pulled her away from the machete, she screamed and cried, thinking one of the others had found her. "Clarke! Clarke, calm down, it's me!"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed , beside herself with fear, blinded with it .

"Look at me! Hey, look at me!" The hands grabbed her face, but they were gentle about it, and she felt her head being turned slowly. She opened her eyes just a fraction, and relief flooded her system like a dam breaking. Tears immediately followed. It was Bellamy. "You're okay. He's dead, you're safe now."

"He tried to..." she sobbed, gesturing wildly at Cage and then her jeans.

"Shh, it's okay." Bellamy said softly, pulling her into his arms. Clarke buried her face into his shirt and cried, cried the way she'd wanted to from the moment she'd left Bellamy in that cellar.

"Bell..." she whispered, sobs wracking her body.

"I know, I'm here, you're safe now. You did good, Clarke."

His voice was like a balm, washing over her and healing a little bit of her spirit. Calm followed right after, and she felt herself become less scared, felt the trembling diminish. "Can we get out of here, please?" she murmured.

Bellamy pulled back, framing her face with his hands. "Of course." Without preamble, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out into the blizzard and away from the fucked up place.

Clarke felt safer than she had in days, and his steadying presence made her fall asleep in minutes.

 **-BCTLOU-**

Bellamy wasn't sure he would ever sleep again.

Granted, he hadn't been through the ordeal that Clarke had gone through, but he barely dared to blink in fear of finding her gone once more. It had frightened him beyond belief.

So while she woke up screaming and crying from nightmares, he didn't sleep at all.

They spent a few nights in the house he'd woken up in. There were blankets enough and the food lasted them a couple of days. They both needed to regain their strength, and they both felt no need to continue after everything.

They needed to find their motivation again.

They spent the days curled up together in the basement, only going out for food when they needed it. If she was annoyed that he followed her wherever she went, she did a good job hiding it. She didn't complain once, just let him trail after her as she expertly shot deer and rabbits like she'd been doing it her whole life. She might just become a better shot than him.

"Where do we go after this, Bell?" Clarke asked one night over a hastily cooked rabbit.

Every time she used that nickname for him, he felt a little twinge in his stomach. The way her soft voice wrapped around the syllables of his name; it was pure happiness. He placed his hand over hers for a moment and squeezed. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, you know that, right?"

"But that's the thing. I'm not sure I want to be this saviour of the human race anymore. I didn't ask for this." She bit angrily into her rabbit, and tore off a piece with her teeth. She looked distinctly grumpy and if the situation wasn't the way it was, he might've laughed a little. She was cute when she was grumpy.

"It's your choice, Clarke. I promise I will follow and protect you whatever choice you make."

Clarke smiled at him, gratefully. "Thanks, Bell."

Three days after that, they left again, moving on foot, trekking for miles and miles. Salt Lake City was a bloody long way away. It would probably take them a week, maybe two.

The first city they encountered, was fucking infested with Infected. Everywhere they turned there were more coming their way, screeching and clicking, their infectious teeth bared. Clarke and he fought off as many as they could, but in the end they were cornered, and for once, he didn't see a way out. He grabbed Clarke's hand in a flash of fear; he wanted to know she was beside him.

But she rounded on him. "Are you giving up?!" she screeched.

"Clarke, we're outnumbered!"

"I am not giving up!" And with that, she grabbed her axe and started slashing through the Infected with a ferocity he hadn't seen in her yet. Several of them jumped her, but she fought them off, and Bellamy could only stare. It was like the Infected were only focussing on her, now that she was putting up a fight.

Stupid, fierce, idiot girl.

He ran after her, literal guns blazing, a pistol in each hand, cursing her all the way. They escaped through a back alley, onto a pull-out ladder that they quickly reeled in so that they could not follow, and up on the roof.

"What the hell was that?!" Bellamy shouted, eyes bulging as they caught their breath, brushing off the filth from their clothing.

Clarke rounded on him, startled. "What?"

"You could've gotten yourself killed!" he bellowed, besides himself in anger and fury. It bubbled below his skin, making him extremely explosive. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Hey!" Clarke yelled, her face turning red in a second, stepping closer and jabbing a finger at his chest. "We were going to die anyway! What did it matter?!"

"What did it…? Clarke, you have no idea – no clue – you just – !" Bellamy stammered, trying to find the words. "You're just – !"

"What?! Huh?" she shouted at him, getting into his face even closer. "What am I, huh? Just spit it out, Bellamy – !"

Then suddenly, he was kissing her.

He hadn't even been thinking about it, he just wanted to shut her up to think, but then he'd shut her up with his lips and he was kissing her and it was glorious. Her lips were softer than he'd ever imagined, and a warmth spread through him from the point their lips touched.

The kiss itself was very gentle, neither of them were pressing forward very much. One hand was in her hair, the other on her waist, pulling her close to him. Her hands were on his chest, she was completely overwhelmed by his sudden kiss (and to be honest, so was he).

"What. The. _Hell_...?" Clarke said, the moment they broke apart. They were both breathing very hard. "Bellamy, I – "

Bellamy stepped back instantly, as if stung. "I'm sorry." he gasped. He rubbed his hands together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." He turned to leave, but her warm hand landed on his arm, and he stopped.

"Wait, Bell..." she said softly. Her eyes were bright, but confusion was pouring out of them in spades. "Why were you so mad at me? Explain."

Bellamy sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. "You threw yourself in that fight like the avenging angel you are, and all I could think about was you dying. And how that frightened me more than anything. You put yourself at risk, and it scared me to death."

Clarke had a bemused expression on her (slightly flushed) face when he looked back down at her. "So you lashed out, because you are really bad at emotions." she said matter-of-factly.

Bellamy couldn't hold back a chuckle, and it choked out of him pathetically. He wished he could just disappear. "Basically."

"You idiot." she whispered. "You utter, adorable, lovable dork." She took two steps towards him and yanked his head down, and kissed him hard. Her fingers wound themselves in his hair, keeping him firmly where he was, giving him no leeway.

Bellamy wound his arms around her petite waist, pulling her against him hard. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking out to touch her lips. She gave a little gasp, which pleased him immensely. Now that she was kissing him, he could pay more attention to something other than just her lips. He could focus on her scent; salty with sweat and dirty with the grime of battle, but there was something else underneath that. Something flowery (maybe lilacs?), that he couldn't quite place. Oh, and the feel of her body pressed against his...she was so small and yet seemed to fit so extremely well against him, as if made to fit into every curve his body made.

Her nose bumped against his when he tried to deepen the kiss even more, and she giggled, but didn't stop to laugh more. She went in for more immediately, and their teeth clashed in their haste to have, totake, more of each other. It wasn't a perfect kiss, but to him, it was. She was perfect. Her skin was soft, with a couple of ridges here and there from scars, and the warmth radiating out of her warmed him, too.

Their breaths were fast, and every now and then they did have to break away from each other to catch a breath. "What are we doing?" Bellamy asked in one of those breathing breaks.

"Wow, I'd have thought you could figure that one out, Bell." she panted, running her hands running up and down his chest. Bellamy chuckled, leaning his forehead against hers, and she smiled. "I know. It's crazy." She kissed him again, and she sucked on his lower lip sensually, making his breath catch. "But we might die tomorrow. Heck, we might die today. So who cares?"

Bellamy smiled, lifting a hand to her hair and pushing it away from her face. "Yeah." he said, leaning down to kiss her again.

The kiss was a lot gentler this time. He noticed how soft her lips were this time, and how much strength her arms had when wrapped around his neck. He could hear his heartbeat now, pounding loudly in his ears, and he could've sworn he was floating.

Kissing Clarke was heaven.

He wondered why he waited so long.

* * *

 ** _Reviews feed my muse and she's a hungry lass! If you could take a moment, it would make my day!_**


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